The Winchester Girl
by fantasydancer
Summary: My name is MacKenzie Lauren Winchester. Does anymore truly need to be said?
1. Prologue

My name is MacKenzie Lauren Winchester. Most call me MacK for short. Or at least everyone but my family who stubbornly insist on calling me Kenzie. (Don't tell them, but I secretly like it when they do.) I'm eighteen years old, five feet, eight inches, have light brown hair (usually pulled into a ponytail), and green eyes. I _never_ wear make-up; in fact I won't even go within a mile of a cosmetic store. Well, except, there was that one time Dean, Sam, and Dad begged me to pretend to be a girly girl so they could sneak in a building and kill a demon while I distracted the humans, but that's another story. I prefer combat boots, leather jackets, and rock music though personally I listen to any kind of music no matter what Sam says about me being mini Dean. It's just the same as when Dean says I'm mini Sam. I read more than my older half-brother Sam, and I eat more than my oldest half-brother Dean.

I have to tell you here and now that even though Sam and Dean are only my half brothers on my father's side because he got some woman pregnant while he was on a hunt one time, and then she called Dad to tell him and by the time he got there a demon had killed my mom and Dad had no choice but to take me. Anyways what was I saying? Oh, yeah, even though they're only half-brothers they're still family and I'd do anything to protect them. Though I have to say it's not always the greatest being the youngest. It's just always someone telling you to do this or do that and they expect you to do so without question. Expect the only thing to come out of your mouth to be a "Yes, sir."

Anyways I have to let you know that my family is _not_ normal. We hunt the supernatural for a living, except we don't get paid. We run credit card scams for money. When we're not killing demons we're hunting down another job to do, and let me tell you spending hours in the Impala with your brothers is _not_ fun.

Well actually it's only me, Dad, and Dean now. Sam and Dad had this big argument a few years back and Sam ran away to Stanford. I've hardly spoken to him since and it just isn't the same without him.

I have to admit I was a bit jealous. I was old enough to go to college now and as I mentioned before, I'm somewhat of a bookworm. But with the demons and other creatures of the supernatural world running around, who has time to learn?

But enough with the chit chat. Let's get on with this. Because my crazy life got even crazier the moment Dean told me we were leaving New Orleans to get Sammy and then find Dad.


	2. Pilot

I sat waiting in the shotgun seat for Dean to get Sam and then get the heck out of town.

I hummed to myself and drummed my fingers along the dash to "Enter Sandman" while I waited.

I sincerely hoped Dean wouldn't take too long. I calculated how long it would take in my head. Sneaking in through the window would take about two minutes tops. The inevitable fight with Sam would take maybe four, five minutes. Then the confrontation and the arguing. Then Sam would probably get dressed and follow Dean back out here. They would most likely argue the whole way and might even stop a couple times to argue some more. All in all I figured it would take about fifteen minutes, which was way too long for my liking.

I would never admit it to Sam, and neither would Dean, but I'd missed Sammy. It was never the same without him on the road. Sometimes Dad would go and sit parked outside of StanfordCollege if we were passing through. Just to make sure Sam was okay.

I had tried calling Sam a few times over the past years and sometimes he would answer me when he wouldn't to Dad and Dean. But when I tried to get him to speak to the others he wouldn't, or well, he might on the rare occasion to Dean, but even that was as I said, rare.

I heard voices coming from outside and I tightened my hold on my gun. I slunk down in the seat to avoid being seen. Two people crossed my line of vision. I cocked the gun, but then I recognized Sammy's sandy, wavy hair, and Dean's leather jacket.

"And that's why you ran away." I heard Dean say.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." I heard Sam shoot back hotly.

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Dean said an angry undertone in his voice.

I winced and listened for more, but Sam was silent. Finally Dean said, "Me and Kenzie can't do this ourselves."

"Yes you can." Sam said in a condescending tone.

"Yeah, well, we don't want to." I heard Dean say.

There was pause from Sam. " What was Dad hunting anyway?"

I picked this moment to open the car door and pounce on the unsuspecting Sam.

"Hi, Sammy. Miss me much?" I asked hugging his waist.

"Kenzie, you scared the crap out of me!" He yelled, jumping. "Dean, I thought you said she was asleep." After several failed attempts to pry me off of him Sam gave up and I let go much to his annoyance.

Dean shrugged and opened the trunk of the Impala. "I lied." Dean propped open the arsenal with a gun and rummaged around a bit. "All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you two go with him?" Sam asked.

"We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourselves?"

Dean gave Sam a look. "I'm twenty-six dude. And I've been taking care of her my entire life." He jerked his head towards me and I rolled my eyes. As if I wasn't capable of taking care of myself. I was eighteen for goodness sakes.

Dean pulled an article out of the trunk. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," Dean handed the paper to Sam and pointed to the picture. "They found his car, but he vanished. He went completely MIA."

Sam looked up from the paper to Dean. "So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean said tossing down another article. Dean continued throwing down an article for each one as he spoke. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." He took the article back from Sam and gathered the others back up putting them back in their folder. "All men, all on the same five-mile stretch of road."

Dean pulled the recorder out of another bag. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We hadn't heard from him since, which was bad enough. Then I get this voicemail yesterday." Dean played the staticky recording from Dad.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked after it had finished playing.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said approvingly. I smirked and Sam shook his head.

"All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." Dean played the recording again and a woman's voice played over.

"I can never go home." She said in seductive voice.

"Never go home." Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean put the recorder back and slammed the trunk. He leaned against it as he spoke. "You know, in almost two years we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Sam sighed. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him."

I grinned shamelessly from behind Sam and nearly hugged him again. Dean nodded in acknowledgment.

Then Sam added. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

Sam turned to leave when Dean asked, "What's first thing Monday?"

Sam stopped and turned back. "I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it." Dean shrugged.

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate." Sam said defensively.

"Law school?" Dean asked smirking. I raised my eyebrows, impressed.

"So we got a deal or not?" Sam asked.

When Sam finally left to go pack, I turned to Dean and said, "Law school? Impressive, looks like my favorite big brother's growing up." I turned to get in the Impala.

Dean gave me a feigned hurt look. "Favorite brother? I thought _I _was your favorite."

I grinned.

We drove all night to Jericho and I dozed in the backseat on the way. Well I dozed until about 6a.m. which was about the time Dean cranked up the radio and began singing along to "Ace of Spades" by Motorhead, and banging on the steering wheel.

Sammy rolled his eyes and sighed and I did the same. Not that I didn't like the music, it's just Dean's singing was, well….shudder. I reached into my bag and pulled out a book to read. _Might as well make good use of the time_, I thought wryly as I tuned out Dean and the music.

At some point we stopped to fill up for gas at a small gas station and Sam got into another argument with Dean about his music. I was very tempted to sigh and roll my eyes again. Obviously nothing had changed between these two. I unwrapped and began munching on the granola bar that Dean picked up for me.

"That sounds about right." I heard Sam say as I finally tuned back in to their conversation. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." Sam said digging through Dean's box of tapes.

"Why?" Dean asked putting down his soda and chips.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam held up a few tapes as he named them. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean snatched the last tape out of Sam's hand. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

I snickered a bit. "Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean said putting the tape into the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean dropped the box back into the box of tapes and started the engine.

I heard Sam say over the music. "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year old. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." Dean yelled over the music.

Dean floored the gas pedal and I leaned forward towards Sam. "Sorry Sammy, can't hear you either." I called over the music.

Sam groaned and I grinned and began singing along with the music.

I have to say, I missed making Sam's life miserable.

"Thank you." Sam said. He closed his phone and sighed. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. You get anything, Kenzie?" He asked looking in the rearview mirror back at me.

I shook my head. "Nothing." I sighed.

"So that's something, I guess." Sam added hopefully.

Dean gave him a half glance and then turned back to the road. "Check it out." He said.

Me and Sam looked up to see several police officers parked on the bridge ahead. Dean pulled off and we watched the scene for a few minutes before Dean popped open the glove department and pulled out an ID card. Sam stared and Dean and I grinned at him.

"Let's go." Dean said getting out and heading towards the crime scene. Me and Sam followed suit. I let my eyes trail over the crime scene taking in the spotless car and the lack of blood, sulfur, or visible fingerprints. I walked over to the edge of the bridge while Sam and Dean went over towards the officers.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" I heard Dean asked and I had to fight a grin at his smart-ass tone.

A few officers were picking their way through the river and over the banks. I looked down and searched for anything that might give us some answers. When I spotted nothing I walked back where Sam and Dean were still talking with the officers. Dean gave me a sort of sly glance and I caught the questioning look returning it with a small almost unperceivable shake of my head.

"So what's the theory?" Sam asked as I came to stand next to him. I expected the officer to say something about me being young but he didn't. I was blessed with the good fortune to look and act older than I really was.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" The officer shrugs.

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean said sarcastically. Sam stomped Dean's foot and I fought off another fond grin. Ah, it was nice to have both my bickering brothers back.

"Thank you for your time" I said quickly before my knuckle-headed siblings could have it out here. I grabbed their arms and pulled them away.

When we were out of earshot Dean smacked Sam upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam said indignantly.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean retorted.

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Sam shot back.

Dean moved in front of Sam causing him to stop and me to run into Sam's back.

"Come on," Dean said. "They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

I cleared my throat and Sam looked over Dean's shoulder. Dean turned as two FBI agents and the Sheriff came up to us.

"Can I help you three?" The sheriff asks.

"No, sir, we were just leaving." Dean answers. The two FBI agents walk past us and Dean nods to each in turn, addressing them. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully."

We headed past the sheriff back to the car. I didn't glance back at him but I could feel the Sheriff's eyes on my back the whole way.

"What are we gonna do now?" Sam asked once we had gotten back in the car and started on towards town.

"Let's go see about this Amy chick. Maybe she can tell us something. Maybe she noticed if this guy Troy was acting funny before this happened." I suggested.

Dean shrugged. "Works for me."

We didn't have to look for too long. We had only been walking for about ten minutes when I noticed a girl up ahead putting up posters on every visible surface. She had dark hair and she wore dark clothing and makeup. I nudged Dean and he looked up.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean said stalking towards her.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"You must be Amy." Dean said.

The girl turned toward us. "Yeah."

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy. And that's his cousin Kenzie." Dean said coolly.

"He never mentioned you to me." She said walking on to put up another poster.

We followed her. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." Dean continued.

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Sam cut across before Dean could say more.

Another young woman, obviously Amy's friend, came up and put a hand on her arm. "Hey, are you okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Amy answered hollowly.

I spoke up. "We were wondering if maybe we could ask you a couple questions."

Amy hesitated. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

"Why don't we go somewhere a bit quieter." I suggested taking her hand and giving her a sympathetic look.

She nodded and led us into a restaurant down the street. I, of course, was squashed like usual between Sam and Dean while Amy and her friend Rachel sat across from us. We ordered some coffee and after the waitress finally returned with it I asked, "So what happened that night?" I stirred some sugar into my coffee. Well, fine, not _some_, but a lot. Hey, don't judge. A girl has to have her sugar and caffeine. Especially when you're constantly dealing with knuckle-headed brothers, and the supernatural.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did." Amy said with a small shake of her head.

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked throwing on his soft puppy eyes.

Amy shook her head. "No. Nothing I can remember."

No one spoke for a few minutes. "I like your necklace." Sam said suddenly.

Amy touched her pendant and looked down at it. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." She said laughing a little.

Sam laughed a little as well and I smiled while Dean just gave us both a look that clearly meant 'geeks'.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." I added.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean said taking his arm off the back of the seat and leaning against the table. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…" Dean trailed off.  
Amy and her friend, whose name we found out is Rachel, looked at each other.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel said.

"What do they talk about?" Sam, Dean, and I chorused.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Rachel said a bit hesitantly. I glanced at my brothers. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

Me and my brothers glanced at each other. It was obvious we had some work to do.

"Dean we have to go to the library. We don't have time for a couple beers." I say exasperated.

"Yeah, yeah, well when you're old enough to drink you might finally understand what makes it so great." Dean snaps back.

I huff in frustration, cross my arms, and stare out the car window.

"I think she's right Dean. We need to try and figure out who this spirit is and torch her bones before she murders anyone else." Sam says.

Dean slams his hands on the wheel. "Fine." He jerks the car around and turns toward the library.

Fifteen minutes later we're all seated around a computer in the library while Dean searches for anything related to a murder on Centennial.

"Let me try." Sam said finally, reaching out after several failed attempts on Dean's part.

Dean slapped his hand away. "I got it." He huffs.

Sam shoved Dean out of the way and grabbed the mouse. "Dude!" Dean cried hitting Sam on the shoulder. "You're such a control freak." Dean muttered.

I bit back a retort to that. "Please, will you two just stop." I sighed. I'd forgotten how exasperating these two were.

Both of them rolled their eyes at me and I resisted the urge to slap them both upside the head.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Me and Dean said together.

"Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam began typing in the search box. He replaced the word 'murder' with 'suicide'. An article appeared and Sam opened it. I skimmed over it quickly.

After a moment Sam said. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off SylvaniaBridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"What?"

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Sam looked back at us.

Dean raised his eyebrows and 'hmm'd. I nodded, thinking quickly about anything Dad might have told us about something like this.

Sam continued to read the article. "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

I studied the picture of the SylvaniaBridge.

"That bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked.

We glanced at each other.

When the cover of night finally fell we headed out to the bridge.

Luckily no one was there and we walked along until Dean and Sam finally stopped to look over the side of the railing.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said, breaking the silence.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked looking over at Dean.

I stood on Sam's other side gazing down at the river below. If Constance died here why couldn't we find any traces? Spirits normally repeated their death. Acted it out on a cycle. They liked to work in patterns. This coincidentally made our job both easier and harder. I moved down the bridge, studying the ground for signs of anything that might help us.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." I heard Dean say behind me. I heard them following after me.

"Okay, so now what?" I heard Sam say.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while. Hey, Kenzie! Find anything?" Dean called ahead to me. I shook my head still lost in my thoughts, concentrating.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—" I heard Sam say and suddenly I stopped in my tracks. I had forgotten about Sam's interview. I felt my heart twist a little at the thought of him leaving us when we were finally starting to feel like a family again

I heard my brothers footsteps stop as well and I turned around to watch them.

"Monday. Right. The interview." Dean said coolly though I could tell he had forgotten about it as well.

"Yeah." Sam said looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asked and I had a feeling this was going to lead to a full blown 'Dean Rage' if I didn't do something fast.

"Maybe. Why not?" Sam snaps.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asks accusingly.

Sam took a step toward Dean and I feared this was about to come to blows. I started toward them but Sam threw me a quick burning look that stopped me in my tracks again.

"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam says angrily.

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean said matter-of-factly as he turned and continued walking my way.

"And who's that?" Sam snapped.

"You're one of us." Dean responded coolly.

Sam hurried and stepped in front of Dean and they both came to a halt. I hurried forward fearful of the results this was bound to bring. I should have known they would do something like this.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life. And you know what? I don't think Kenzie wanted this for a life either. I mean, look at her. She's always been like me. She's always done well in school, but you won't let her go to college will you? You and Dad probably told her it's too dangerous but it's her own damn fault she listens to you!"

That hurt. Of course there was truth to his words. But I had never even gotten up the courage to ask if I could go to college like Sam. I understood I couldn't. I understood that sometimes life wasn't fair and you couldn't always do what you wanted.

I stepped between the two of them, probably not a smart move but I had to do something nonetheless and if they accidentally hit me then they would feel guilty and quit fighting anyways.

"We all have a responsibility to—" Dean starts but Sammy cuts him off.

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Dean pushed me out of their way, none too gently I might add, and grabbed Sam by the collar, He shoved him up against the railing of the bridge.

I stumbled back and look up in time to see Dean say, "Don't talk about her like that." Dean releases Sam and I feel a slight breeze behind me. Not much but it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I looked behind me and saw a figure dressed in white standing on the edge of the railing. She turned to look at us. "Guys." I say in hushed whisper.

They both turn to look just as Constance steps off the bridge. We run and look over the railing.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.

I shook my head mystified. "I don't know." Sam answered.

Suddenly I hear the familiar rumble of the Impala being cranked. We all turn in time to see the headlights cut on.

"What the—" Dean gapes.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asks.

Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and jangled them. "Her." I breathe shaking my head. The car suddenly jerks and begins heading straight for us. We break into a run.

"Go! Go!" I hear Sam say. As if I needed to be told

I could feel the car almost at my heels and there was no way we could outrun it. We all three jump over the side of the railing.

I grunted and pulled myself up over the railing thankful for once that Dad made me do all those training exercises.

I had barely grabbed on in time and as my body weight had jerked me over I had near lost my grip. A painful jolt had been shot through my shoulders and up my arms and it took all I could not to cry out and let go.

Sam pulled himself up beside me onto the bridge and leaned up against the railing. We looked at each other panting. "You all right?" I asked rolling my shoulders.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Sam nodded then yelled, "Dean? Dean!"

"What?" I heard Dean holler angrily. I looked down in time to see him pull himself out of the water, muddy, but unharmed.

"Hey! Are you all right?" Sam called.

Dean held up an OK sign. "I'm super."

Sam and I laughed a bit, relieved. We scooted away from the edge of the railing and stood up to wait for Dean to make his way back up the bank.

While he made sure his 'baby' was all right I went to check out where we had seen Constance jump. I didn't spot anything unusual though so I joined my brothers back at the car as Dean was shutting the hood.

"Your car all right?" Sam asked as I neared them.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!" Dean said leaning against the hood. I could tell he was annoyed, angry, and he was still covered in mud.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam asked smartly as he sat down beside him.

Dean threw up his hands, flicking mud in all directions. Since they took up the whole hood with their big butts I promptly settled myself in Sam's lap much to his annoyance.

"Aren't you getting too old for this?" He asked looking around at me. I shrugged and purposely added a bit of weight onto his lap.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine." Then he sniffed and looked at Dean. "You smell like a toilet."

I bit back a laugh that threatened to escape and I near bit the blood out of my lip. My shoulders wouldn't stop shaking though and Dean gave me a sort of half-glare as Sam grinned.

Like I said, I missed them.

When my brothers came out of the motel check in they seemed anxious. I had grabbed our duffel bags and was waiting outside.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Dad was here." Dean said, hurriedly taking his bag from me and digging out the lock picks. He handed them to Sam.

"When?" A feeling of hope began swelling in my chest.

"Not sure. Here, pick the lock, college boy." He said.

Sam gave him a dirty look but moved down the row of motel doors and stopped in front of one. Me and Dean moved in to cover him from speculating eyes while he picked the lock.

Suddenly I feel Sam pulling me and Dean in by the backs of our jackets. He shut the door behind us and I gave the room a quick glance fighting off a smirk at all of dad's notes covering the walls. Such a Dad thing to do. I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the thought of him.

I glanced at the notes, reading a few in his familiar handwriting.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." I heard Dean say behind me.

I looked back at Sam who was fingering a salt line. "Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." He said looking up.

I continued to study a photograph Dad had taped to the wall. It was a woman dressed in a white gown. I moved next to Dean to see what he was looking at. Picutres of men covered the wall in front of him.

"What have you got here?" Sam asked coming up behind us.

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean answered.

Sam nodded and moved around the room again.

"I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" Dean asked. I moved on around the room continuing my search for anything helpful.

"Dad figured it out." I heard Sam say quietly.

I snapped my head around from the article I was looking at about Sirens. "What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." I looked over Sam's shoulder at the picture.

"You sly dogs." I heard Dean mutter. Then he said aloud, "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness." Me and Sam said simultaneously. We glanced at each other a bit annoyed. The three of us had picked up the habit of talking in unison when we were young. Or guessing what the other was going to say, or finishing a sentence for the other. It used to drive Dad mad when he wasn't on a hunt. Now it drove us all mad.

Dean ignored our concurrent speaking and said, "Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean moved over to stand next to us and glanced at the article as well. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam said tapping the picture captioned "Joseph Welch".

"If he's still alive." I muttered.

"All right. Why don't you two, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up." Dean said heading toward the bathroom.

I threw myself down on the bed for a quick moment's rest. Suddenly I heard Sam say, "Hey, Dean?"

I opened one eye and glanced at my brothers. Dean stopped and turned back.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry." Sam continued until Dean held up a hand to stop him.

"No chick-flick moments." He said seriously.

I sniffed a grin at them. Sam laughed. "All right. Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean immediately shot back.

I giggled and they both looked over at me. "Nerd." Sam said.

"Geek." Dean added.

"Dorks." I shot at the both of them and we all fell into grinning and laughter.

Dean ducked it the bathroom and I closed my eyes to get some rest.

I felt someone shaking my shoulder. "Hmm…." I groaned.

"Hey you want anything from the diner down the street?" I heard Dean ask.

"Mmm. Yeah. Give me a moment and let me come with you." I mumbled sleepily.

"Okay."

I sat up and pulled my jacket on, smoothing my hair down. I slipped into my combat boots and jumped to the door where Dean was waiting.

"You not coming, Sammy?" I ask as Dean opened the door.

He shook his head, still listening to his voicemail.

We walked across the parking lot toward the Impala. "Dean." I say stopping short and grabbing his arm.

"What?" He asks turning to look where I am.

The motel clerk was talking to two deputies and he was pointing in our direction. Dean pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Sam's number.

""Dude, five-oh, take off." Dean said feigning coolness.

"Uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad." Dean hung up as the officers approached.

I stood a little bit to the side and behind him but I could see the grin on his face.

"Problem, officers?"

"Where's your other partner?" The one named Jaffe asked.

"Partner? What other partner." Dean asked innocently but it wasn't very convincing. Jaffe gestured to the other officer who began making his way toward our room.

"So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" Jaffe questioned.

Dean paused. "My boobs." He said grinning.

Next thing I know we're both pushed down over the hood of a squad car our hands handcuffed behind our backs.

Jaffe begins reading us our rights as they shove us into the car.

"What's your name, kid?" The officer asked me.

I sat calmly in my chair. "I told you. It's Liv Tyler."

The officer leaned against the table. "Like, the daughter of Steven Tyler, lead singer of Aerosmith? Like the actress, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Lord of the Rings fan?" I questioned casually.

"Incredible Hulk." He said his face impassive.

I nod. "Ah, understandable, but I believe she plays her role better as Arwen, She seems more—" The officer cut me off by throwing both his hands on either arm of my chair.

"So you're as intent on being as stubborn as your partner, eh? Or should I say brother."

This momentarily shocked me into silence, and though I don't allow it to show on my face I know it does in my eyes. Surely Dean would never have told them such a thing. Then how—

"Thought he was. We found this journal back in that room and I leafed through it. It's an utterly crazy bunch of mess, but I did find this picture." He held up a photograph. It was Dean, and Sam with me squished between them, sitting on the hood of the Impala. It had been taken about a year before Sam left.

"So you're MacKenzie, eh?" He asked.

I didn't answer so he continued. "Well then, since your brother is intent on being stubborn about this maybe you can tell me what this means." He flipped open Dad's journal to a page that read: Dean Kenzie 35-111. It was circled.

I bit back a smile. Coordinates. So Dad had left us a trail.

I looked up at the officer and shrugged. "It's my high school locker combo."

The officer smiled. "Really, well, isn't that something. That's exactly what your brother said."

I felt the smile start to wane on my face a bit. "We used the same one."

"Really?" The officer said still smiling. "So I guess I'm stuck asking you two this all night, huh? I'll be back. Maybe then you'll be ready to talk." He handcuffed my arm to the table and took the journal with him.

I let out a puff of air. Sam had better hurry up. This was becoming increasingly boring.

I patted my jacket pockets for paper cliffs or bobby pins and came up empty. I really needed to start carrying them.

It was only about ten minutes later I heard the door handle jingle and then suddenly open. Dean stepped in and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sammy phoned a fake 911 call." Dean said simply as he picked the lock on my handcuffs.

I nodded and rubbed at my wrist. I noticed Dad's journal tucked under Dean's arm.

"Dean, did you see—" I began but he cut me off.

"The coordinates. Yeah. But we gotta get out of here and call Sammy first."

I agreed and we snuck through the empty halls to the fire escape. Dean went down first and then I followed suit.

We walked quickly, keeping our heads down. Dean stopped at the nearest telephone booth to get a call to Sam and I stood outside as a lookout.

It wasn't too long when Dean came bursting out. "We gotta go." He said swiftly.

"What is it?" I questioned suddenly worried.

"I think that Constance chick's got Sam." He stopped at the nearest car and quickly hotwired it.

"Get in." He ordered and I did so just before he sped off.

"What did Sam say?" I asked as we drove fifty miles over the speed limit.

"He went to see her husband, Joseph Welch. Turns out he was unfaithful to her. But Dad bailed before he destroyed her corpse. Sam must've been on his way there to check it out when I called."

Dean slammed the brakes on as we pulled into the driveway of Constance's old dilapidated house. Molded boards of wood hung off the side of the house. The glass was broken in every window.

"Let's go." Dean said before jumping out of the car and running toward where the Impala was parked out front.

He cocked the shot gun he'd stolen and fired into the windows of the car at Constance as I came up behind him. She faded in and out with every shot fired. Each time she reappeared her face more grisly than before.

Sam struggled to sit up in the car. Blood was dripping from his chest. "I'm taking you home." I heard him mutter.

Sam drove straight forward through the house. Dust and wood flew everywhere and we ducked to avoid it. Me and Dean stared at him for a moment wondering if our poor brother had lost his damn mind, and then hurry through the wreckage to the car. "Sam! Sam!" Me and Dean scream.

We look into the car at our brother who seems all right for now. "You okay?" Dean asked.

"I think." Sam said shakily.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah. Help me?" Dean and I lean and help Sam out.

"There you go." Dean says once we get Sam to his feet.

We turn and look around the house to notice Constance as she throws a picture frame down. Suddenly a bureau slides across the room and succeeds in pinning me and my brothers against the side of the car. I gasped in pain and surprise.

We push and heave trying to move the thing, but it won't budge. Then the lights start to flicker and we all three look up. Water begins drips over the side of the staircase and soon turns into a steady stream like a sort of waterfall.

I hear two voices speaking. "You've come home to us, Mommy."

Faster than I can blink there are two kids standing behind Constance hugging her around the waist. She let out a piercing shriek and continued to scream. She and the children started to flicker with the lights. Then they slowly began to melt. It seemed as though the children were dragging Constance down with them. Then they suddenly sink into the floor.

Constance's screams die out and me, Dean, and Sam shove the bureau over. We cautiously approached the place where they disappeared and I examined the wet spot on the floor.

"So this where she drowned her kids?" Dean asked.

"Yep." I say.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them." Sam explains.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." Dean said slapping Sam on the chest over his injury.

Sam gave a choked laugh through his pain. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey." Dean said defensively. "Saved your ass." Dean grinned slightly and I found myself breaking out into a few chuckling laughs.

Dean began inspecting his 'baby'. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" Dean turned back to look at Sam. "I'll kill you."

Sam laughed and so did I. "I'm going with Dean, Sammy. When you two die that's supposed to be my car. You better not have ruined it."

"You're welcome to it when Dean dies. I'll pass." Sam said as Dean continued looking over his car.

"What? My baby not good enough for you?" Dean asks closing the hood.

"I'm just being generous." Sam said his voice going an octave higher the way it always does when he's lying.

I grinned.

"Okay, here's where Dad went." Sam said looking at the map in his lap while I hold the flashlight for him. "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?"

"About six hundred miles."

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning." Dean says a bit optimistically.

Sam hesitated before speaking his next words. "Dean, I, um…."

Dean glanced at the road and then back at Sam. I stared at him.

"You're not going." Dean said disbelievingly.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam insisted.

I slumped back in my seat disappointed that he's actually still going through with this. I had hoped this might've changed his mind and he would take up this life again but I should have known better. I can tell by Dean's expression he's just as disappointed as I am.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home." Dean turned his attention back to the road and nobody says anything for the rest of the car ride.

Dean pulled up in front of the college apartment. After Sam got out I climbed into the passenger seat in his place.

Sam leaned in the window as he spoke. "Call me if you find him?" Dean nodded. "And maybe I can meet up with you two later, huh?"

"Yeah." I mumbled.  
"Yeah, all right." Dean agreed quietly.

Sam patted the door of the car and turned to go when I hear Dean say suddenly. "Sam?"

Sam stopped and turned.

Dean put his arm around my shoulders and leaned across to look at Sam out the passenger window. "You know, we made a hell of team back there."

"Yeah." Sam agreed with a small chuckle.

Dean hesitated for half a second and then he drives off.

I looked back to see Sam, still watching us, a pained expression on his face. I slumped back in my seat with a sigh.

"I'm sorry." Dean said quietly.

I turned to him, a puzzled expression on my face. An apologizing Dean? That was a rare occurrence. "What for?"

Dean sighed. "I thought if I came and got Sam that he'd want to stay and we'd finally be a family again. I know how much you missed him when he left."

I looked at him but he kept his eyes on the road. I remembered those days after Sammy left. I'd been fourteen at the time and I remembered the fight Sam and Dad had had. How Dean had tried to stop it. I remembered the nights I had spent lying awake at night sometimes crying over the thought that I had lost one of my big brothers for good. I had been afraid that Sam would be killed, or worse, that he didn't love us anymore. That he didn't care if something happened to us anymore.

Dean had always been there though. Every time he had heard my silent crying he would slip across the room and sit next to me, soothing my crying with his touch and his whispered words of comfort.

Dean had always been there for me and Sam. And I knew he would do anything to get us to be a family again.

I shook my head. "It's not your fault." I said quietly.

I expected an explosion but instead Dean made a sudden U-turn.

"What is it?" I asked shocked.

"Something's not right. " He muttered. "Something doesn't feel right."

He stopped in front of the apartment where Sam lived and jumped out. "Stay here." He ordered. He picked the lock on the door to the apartment and hurried inside.

I jumped out of the car and stood anxiously waiting. What could Dean think was wrong? I was about to go in after him when suddenly I spotted flames up in a window.

I cried out in shock. "Fire!" I screamed. "There's a fire!" People began running out of the building including Dean who was dragging a shocked Sam along.

"What happened?" I asked Dean frantically.

"The demon got Jessica." He answered.

I raised my eyebrows. "'The Demon'?" I asked.

Dean nodded and I gaped. I turned to Sam while Dean went to make sure the firefighters had been called. "You all right?"

Sam seemed shell-shock but he nodded. "I'll be fine." He said hollowly heading back to the Impala.

Later that night as Dean was coming back towards the car I fell in beside him. Sam was staring at the weapons in the trunk and he was loading a shotgun. Dean looked at Sam whose face was angry and desperate.

He tossed the gun back into the trunk. "We got work to do." He said slamming the trunk shut.


	3. Laugh, I Nearly Died

We were in LeeCounty, somewhere just outside of Dixon, Illinois.

As we came around a bend in the road I noticed a small cemetery up ahead. I sat up.

It's the cemetery where my mother was buried.

"Dean." I said roughly.

"Yeah."

"Can we stop up ahead? At that cemetery."

Dean looked back at me in the rearview mirror. "I guess. Why?"

I swallowed. "Nothing. I-I just need to see something."

Dean gave me a funny look but he pulled up to the cemetery.

"You all right? Do you feel sick or something?" Sam asked as I got out of the car.

I shook my head and made my way down the rows of headstones to a small granite one with the name Katie Thomas carved into it. I crouched in front of it. I heard footsteps coming from behind me but I paid them no mind.

I ran my fingers over the name and then over the dying grass at the foot of the grave. I swallowed the dryness from my throat. "Hey, Mom." I whispered.

I felt my brothers standing behind me a little ways and I took a deep breath before standing again. I turned around to face their sad looks.

"Sorry, I'm ready now." I said putting on a cheery attitude.

They gave me funny looks.

"That's your mom's grave?" Sam asked finally.

I nodded. "Yeah. Dad brought me out here a couple times when we passing through."

They both nodded and then Dean turned and made his way back to the car. "All right. I guess let's go. We'll get a motel room in town and stay the night. I'm pretty tired."

Something clenched inside me at the thought of staying in the same town where a demon killed my mom, but I wasn't about to say anything. I couldn't let it seem like it bothered me. I mean, I had never really even known my mom. She had died only a few days after I was born.

She had been a hunter as well and when she returned home from the hospital with her sister a demon was already waiting there. It killed her but her sister managed to kill it before it could get me. Then her sister had called up Dad and well, I guess you can figure out the rest.

I followed my brothers back out to the car and we took off towards town.

"We got another job." I heard Sam say as he entered the motel room.

Me and Dean turned. "What?" We asked in unison.

He held up a newspaper article and a piece of paper. "A woman mysteriously disappeared while visiting her mother's grave at the local cemetery. Two days later she's found dead in the mausoleum. She was covered in blood but the police say she died from a heart attack.

"So?" Dean questioned raising his eyebrows.

"So, she was twenty-three and she's the sixth girl to die in the same place in the past ten years. All girls under twenty-five, same cemetery, all visiting their dead mother's grave." Sam explained.

"But it could just be some psycho killer." I reasoned.

"I don't think so. Besides what's it hurt to look into it?" Sam looked between me and Dean and we looked at each other and shrugged.

"Let's go." I said grabbing my jacket.

"So this is the place where she died?" I asked more as a rhetorical question than anything else.

"Supposedly." Sam said as he slid the lock pick back into his pocket.

I walked slowly around the room and studied the floor and walls. I read off the names along the wall to myself as I went.

"You guys find anything?" Dean asked after a moment.

"No. Nothing." Sam answered.

I started to answer as well when something caught my eye. Below a crypt labeled "Sylvester Ellis" was a small mark. I bent down to study it and run my hand over the spot. It was a thin crack.

"Dean, Sam." I said. "Help me here."

I felt both my brothers at my shoulder instantly. "What is it?" Sam asked.

"Not sure." I slid my knife out of my arm sheath and worked it in the thin crack. I pried it up and the section of concrete gave way. I pulled it up with my brothers' assistance.

Dust flew up as though the passage hadn't been in use for a while. Dean dug a flashlight out of his duffel and switched it on. He shone it down into the gloom to illuminate a set of steps.

"Well, well. That's classic." Dean muttered behind me. "Let's go." He started down the steep stairs cautiously, one hand on his flashlight, and the other on the wall. Sam and me followed closely behind him.

At some point the stairs stopped and a long gray chamber stretched before us. In the dead center was wooden chair. Chains hung limply from it and it was stained with what appeared to be blood. The walls were covered with an assortment of torture implements.

"Holy—." I muttered. We moved around the room to inspect everything. The weapons were rusted and dull and I winced at how they would most likely hurt like hell.

"Hey, guys, come check this out." I heard Sam say. I turned to go toward him but slight rustling noise to my left caught my attention. I turned toward it instead and as I did so I felt a crushing weight knock into me, knocking me to the ground.

I heard Sam and Dean's cries of surprise and I felt whatever it was dragged off of me. I rolled over and Sam helped me into a standing position.

My assailant wasn't of the supernatural kind though. It was a girl about my age with light hair, blond highlights, and hazel eyes. She was taller than me and her skin was pale, all except for her face which was bright red with rage. Her Walking Dead T-shirt was filthy and her ripped jeans looked almost black from the dirt smeared on them.

She squirmed in Dean's tight grip. "Let go of me," She yelled. "Or I'll, I'll…" She trailed off angrily.

"Hey, hey, hey, just calm down. We're not gonna hurt you." Dean said firmly.

She stopped struggling and Dean let go of her. She stuck out the rusty blade she was using for weapon and we held up our hands in surrender. "Who are you?" She asked frantically. Her eyes flashed.

I took a step forward, my hands still raised. "Look, it's fine. I'm MacK, that's Sam, and Dean."

The girl lowered her weapon slightly. "What are you doing here?"

Dean scoffed. "Well, we could ask you the same thing."

The girl lowered her weapon completely. She stood up straight and pursed her lips. It came off as a defiant look. "I'm hunting ghosts." She said simply.

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. "What?"

She frowned. "My mom told me that there was no such thing, but I've seen the things she did in her free time. I followed her once and I watched her dig up this grave and burn a body. So I did some research and," She shrugged. "I found out that ghosts are real."

I looked at both my brothers. "Listen," Sam began. "Um, why don't we take you home? I'm sure your parents are getting worried."

The girl gaped and her eyes glinted. "Look, I'm not crazy. There's something going on here. I saw it with my own two eyes."

I glanced at my brothers again. "You know about the supernatural world?"

The girl shrugged. "I know that there are ghosts."

Dean let out a breath of air. "Well that's just peachy. Look, we believe you all right. We hunt this stuff too. Like your mom probably does."

"Did." The girl interrupted quietly.

"What?" Dean asked puzzled.

"She _did_ hunt these things. She, um," The girl swallowed. "She died in a car wreck two weeks ago."

Dean, Sam's, and mine's eyebrows rose and fell quickly. "Oh. I'm sorry." Dean said taken aback.

The girl turned and shook her head. "I'm dealing." She turned back and sniffed. "So, you guys are hunting this thing too?"

"Yeah, um, you wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" Sam asked.

The girl shrugged. "Just that it's killing off girls between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five."

I took a deep breath. "All right. Great. Anyways, what's your name?"

"Oh, it's Emma. Emma Thomas."

I raised my eyebrows. "Thomas? Did you ever happen to know a Katie Thomas?"

My brothers gave me a funny look. The girl furrowed her brows.  
"Well, I didn't know her exactly, but I've seen pictures. She was my mom's sister."

I froze. "Did, she, um, did she happen to die in an accident when you were a baby?"

Emma's brows shot up. "Yeah, she did actually. How did you know?"

I sucked a sharp breath. "She was my mom."

"So your mom never mentioned me?" I asked Emma as I stirred the stirrer in my coffee.

We were sitting in a diner called Happy Jacks. Sam was sitting next to Emma looking slightly uncomfortable. When we'd come in I had taken a seat and then Dean had rushed to sit beside me, whether to aggravate me, Emma, or Sam I wasn't sure.

"No. Never said a word. She didn't like to talk about it. Same as when she would disappear late at night and I'd ask her about it." Emma said. She was scooting closer and closer to Sam inconspicuously. And the closer she got the farther Sam scooted over. Half his butt cheek was hanging off by now I figured.

"She must not have wanted you to have this life." I said trying hard to stay serious. "I have to tell you, once you know about these things." I shook my head. "Well, life ain't a joy ride."

"But you _will_ let me help on this hunt, right?" She said ignoring me.

I looked at Sam who was shaking his head vigorously and then at Dean who gave me the '_don't even think about it_' look.

"Of course. We'll teach you everything we know."

Emma's eyes lit up. "Cool, so when do we start?"

Both of my brother gave me the '_we're gonna talk about this later_' look.

"Well, first we have to do research. Find out who the spirit is. Though I'm thinking it's this Sylvester Ellis dude since the entrance was right below his grave. Then once we're certain we go dig him up, and salt and burn his bones."

Emma was looking at me like I was crazy but she finally shrugged. "All right."

Dean's eyes widened. "All right. You find out that there are ghosts, demons, and monsters and all you say is 'all right'." Dean looked away and muttered. "Well there is definitely something wrong with you."

I elbowed him in the ribs earning a satisfying grunt. Emma stared. "Yeah, I mean, it's not that hard to believe. I watch ghost movies all the time. Zombie movies." She shrugged. "The works."

"Yeah, well before you get to go all kamikaze on us you've got to understand something. All those things you watch on TV, or read about, they aren't worth a crap once you get to this world. It's taken a life time for us to figure everything out and we still don't know half of it."

"What are you researching again?" Emma asked me as I flipped through the county records.

"Anyone who's lived in the past hundred years named Sylvester Ellis. The entrance to that room was right below his grave." I repeated monotone for the thousandth time.

"Ok." Emma flipped through Dad's journal taking in all the information in his small cramped handwriting. "So vampires aren't scared of garlic?"

"Nope." Dean said for the thousandth time in answer to her questions. He slammed the book shut he was trying to read.

I sighed. We had been following this same routine for almost two hours. The only thing we had accomplished was making Sam uncomfortable by once again being so close to Emma, making Dean huffy from doing so much research, and I was feeling the beginnings of a major migraine.

"All right. Here it is. Sylvester Ellis. Born 1935, he grew up on Hilmont street. When he was twenty his mother murdered his father. Then two years later the mother and his eighteen year old sister disappeared and were never seen again." Sam explained.

"When did he die?" I asked.

Sam scrolled down the computer screen. "Uh, about ten years ago."

Dean looked at me. "Right when those killings started."

"Right." Sam continued scrolling. "Well, I guess we have a job to do tonight."

Emma looked up and paled instantly. "Wait, you were serious about the whole salting and burning thing?"

We stared at her. "Yeah." We said in unison.

Emma swallowed. "Oh." She went back to her reading.

Under cover of darkness we made our way back to the cemetery.

Emma was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet and her eyes flickered nervously. I grinned. "It's not your first breaking and entering obviously."

She glanced at me. "No but it's the first time I've ever salted and burned a dead body."

I hid a grin as I cocked my salt gun and waited for Sam to push open the door.

My brothers stepped into the mausoleum and I put a hand out to stop Emma before she came in. "Um, since it _is_ your first time doing this why don't you stay out here and keep watch."

Emma shook her head. "No, it's fine I want to go. It'll be fun." She glanced inside at Sam hungrily. Great, just what I needed. My cousin falling in love with her half-cousin by marriage. Perfect.

I gave a wry smile. "Ok. I'll keep watch. Why don't you go on in?"

She nodded happily and tightened her grip on the bag of salt she held. She hurried in and I assumed my position outside. Everything was quiet for now.

Suddenly I heard a thud as I assume my brothers got the crypt open. I heard a gasp and a gagging noise and I found that Emma was almost instantaneously by my side again.

I licked my lips to keep from grinning. "That. Was nasty." She gagged.

I shrugged. "Probably seen worse." I sighed and turned back to my guard duties. A flicker of movement caught my eye on the other side of the graveyard. I narrowed my eyes as I saw it again. "Hey, Emma, stay here. I think I saw someone. I'm gonna go check it out. Keep a watch while they burn the thing why don't ya."

She nodded and folded her arms. I made my way slowly toward where I'd seen the shadow. I caught the movement again to my left and I turned toward it once more.

Suddenly Emma let out a scream. I turned in time to see a pale, grisly figure attack me. My eyes flew wide and I fired the salt gun immediately. I scrambled backwards as the thing disappeared.

"What is it?" I heard Dean yell across the cemetery. I jumped up licking my dry lips.

The figure appeared beside me again and I took another shot. "I don't see it!" Dean cried.

"There!" Emma yelled and pointed. I shot again dispelling the spirit for a third time.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Sam cried running out of the mausoleum. We didn't need to be told twice. The burning obviously had only made it angry.

We hurried back to the Impala not even stopping to see if anyone or anything was following us.

"It must be a cursed object then." I said as we started back to the motel.

"A what?" Emma asked.

"Sometimes if a spirit wants to hang around for a while it attaches itself to an object. Then until that object is destroyed, the spirit can stay." Sam explained thoughtfully.

"But that doesn't explain why only me and Emma can see the thing."

"Yeah. I'm still working on that one." Sam said.

I quietly slipped the door shut. The drug I'd snuck into them had said my brothers shouldn't wake up until late tomorrow morning, but that didn't mean I wasn't still going to be careful about not waking them up.

I unlocked Dean's car and slid into he drivers seat. I pulled out of the parking lot and my way back to Emma's house. We had conspired our plan earlier while my brothers were busy doing other things.

She was waiting outside for me and she hurriedly got into the passenger seat. We didn't speak much as I drove, both of us nervous in our own way. I wasn't scared of the ghost like she kind of was. No, I was scared of what my brothers would say to me if and when they found out what had happened.

It was an hour long drive back to the cemetery. I pulled into the parking lot, turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. It was stuffed with rock salt, holy water, silver bullets, an iron knife, and lighter fluid.

Emma was right behind me gripping the handle of the iron knife strapped to her belt. I kept my grip tight on the rock salt gun as we made our way through the cemetery. Gravel crunched under our feet. The wind picked up and I pulled the EMF reader from the inside pocket of my jacket. It beeped and lit up like a Christmas tree.

I moved closer to where the waves seemed to be strongest. It was coming from our right so we turned and headed in that direction. Before long I realized that I was standing directly in front of my mom's grave. I didn't look at Emma but I felt her beside me.

Then I felt a pain in the back of my head and I was knocked out cold.

I opened my eyes. They felt like someone had rubbed sand into them. I groaned at the pain in my head as I got to my feet.

I forced my eyes open wider and attempted to take in my surroundings. The room was dark, but the smell was awful. It stank of stale blood and burnt flesh.

"Emma." I said quietly. No response. "Emma." I said a little louder. My backpack was gone which meant that so was my flashlight.

Then I heard a groan. "What? Where am I?" I heard Emma say.

"Oh, my gosh." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

Another groan and I heard some scuffling that sounded like she was standing up. "Yeah. I'll be fine once my head stops pounding."

I let out a distracted laugh. "Yeah, Let's try to find a way out of here."

"Yeah." She agreed.

We felt along the walls for an opening until suddenly a light flickered on. I turned, shocked. Emma was standing in the middle of the room sporting a nice sized bruise on her temple. Her hand was still on the string which turned on the single flickering light bulb.

"You look like crap." She commented.

I rolled my eyes. "So do you." I retorted.

She breathed a laugh. "Yeah. So are we officially stuck in here?"

I sighed. "Hopefully not. Maybe my brothers will realize something is wrong and track us here." I hoped for once I hadn't covered my tracks too well. Then again as I thought about it, maybe I'd rather take my chances with the ghost than my monumentally pissed brothers.

I slumped down against the grimy wall, my head aching and my mouth dry from thirst. Emma slumped down beside me.

After a while in companionable silence she asked, "How did you first find out about….?" She trailed off unsure of what to say.

I gave a wry grin. "You mean, how did I find out about things that go bump in the night?" I looked at her.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I mean, it's not exactly like I expected your Dad to sit down and tell you things like this like he would to tell you about the birds and the bees."

I stifled a laugh. "Actually, Dean told me about that."

Emma gave me a somewhat shocked and horrified look like she couldn't believe my older brother had told me something of the sort.

"Anyways." I laughed. "I was ten years old. Dean had found out about things when he was six or seven and Sam had been eight. My brothers hadn't wanted to tell me of course, but I was bound to find out eventually….

_Flashback:_

I had never been more excited in my life. Dad had finally said I could take dance classes since we were close enough that Dean wouldn't have to drive this time.

I'd asked when I was six and again when I was eight and I got the same response every time. "No, it's too dangerous."

But Dad had finally given in to my perfected puppy dog eyes and I was ecstatic. I hadn't known then though that Dean had promised to pay for the lessons from his own poker money.

I of course couldn't afford the shoes or the costumes. I wasn't allowed to be in any recitals. But I could go to classes. And I was content with that. I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I had just finished my fifth class and I was sitting on the bench swinging my feet, waiting for Dean to get there like usual. I looked down and let out a breath. I had been waiting for over a half hour and I was ready to walk myself home.

But I knew better. I hadn't known about things that go bump in the night at the time, but I knew Dad, Dean, and Sam would be livid if I came home myself.

I looked up again to see that Dean had finally made an appearance. I should have known something was off at how fast and how silently Dean had showed up, but honestly I was only ten and I was tired and hungry.

"What took you so long?" I asked jumping up and crossing my arms. I gave him an angry look that probably came off more as a pout.

He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Sorry, I had something to do."

He grabbed my hand tightly even though he hadn't done that since I was seven. I gave him a funny look as he began stalking off not even bothering to shorten his strides like he usually did.

I hurried to keep up as he drug me along. Suddenly he took a sharp turn around an alleyway I looked up at him and tried to yank my hand away from his grasp. Instead he gripped it tighter. I winced and stopped walking resulting in a sharp pain shooting through my arm when he kept going.

"Dean." I whined. He stopped and turned. His eyes flared. Something was definitely not right. "Have you been drinking?" I questioned sternly.

He glared and yanked me along again. I yelped in pain and did my best to pull away. I screamed at him hit him with my free hand. "Who are you? Let me go! Where's my brother?"

Suddenly he stopped and I gave a hard yank. Something came off in my hand. I looked down and sucked a sharp gasp. It was a piece of bloody flesh. What the heck?

I looked up at Dean and gaped. He was grinning strangely. There was something evil about it. Suddenly a tooth popped out of his mouth. I gasped. Then another and another. I jumped back and screamed for help but the man, or whatever he was grabbed the back of my shirt.

I pulled and squirmed and I let my weight go limp like I'd done when I was five in the grocery store. Not-Dean yanked me up again and I screamed as I felt my arm pull itself out of the socket.

"Hey, Dickface!" I heard a familiar voice yell.

I turned toward the voice but the Not-Dean blocked my view. I heard a loud gun shot go off. And the thing holding me let go. He fell back and I dropped to the ground in agony. Another gun shot went off. I heard pounding footsteps on the pavement and I felt someone leaning over me breathing heavily.

"Kenzie? Kenzie?" Dean's voice reverberated in my ear. I jumped up and pain laced my shoulder, back, and arm.

"Leave me alone, you bastard!" I cried trying to keep the tears of pain from clouding my vision.

Dean's eyes flew wide in surprise. Then they narrowed in understanding. He knelt down and grabbed a hold of my arms gently. I hissed in pain and he lightened his grip even more. "Hey, hey, hey." He whispered soothingly. "It's alright. It's me, okay? It's me, Dean. I promise I'm not that guy that looked like me." I looked up at Dean's fond gaze. "How else would I know that you wet your pants in kindergarten and I had to come pick you up from school?"

I gasp and he grinned. I would've have been angrier at him for bringing that up if I hadn't of been so relieved. I flung myself at him and hugged him with my good arm.

"Shh, It's alright now. I gotcha, little sister. I got you." He whispered rubbing my back.

"D-D-Dean." I tried to calm my hitching breath.

He brushed the hair from my face. "Shh, it's alright. We're gonna get you patched up, alright? You're gonna be fine. I promise."

I hiccupped. "W-what was t-that?" I asked quietly.

"What do you mean, Kenz?" He asked, but I could tell he was feigning ignorance.

I gave him a look and frowned. "Dean, that man's skin came off. And his teeth popped out on their own."

Dean paled even more than he already was. "You were just seeing things, Kenzie. It was nothing, I promise."

I shook my head. "That thing was a monster." I stated innocently.

Dean looked down at me, pained. He sighed. "Yeah." He said quietly. "It was."

I furrowed my brow. "What?"

"It really was a monster. It's a Shapeshifter It's like one of the things Dad hunts."

I gaped not completely understanding. Dean had always been the one to reassure me that monsters weren't real. When I'd asked Sam something of the sort he'd just look down and shake his head.

Dean looked around him. "Look, I promise I'll explain just, just let's get you fixed up first, okay?"

I would've said more except for the fact that I was in a lot of pain. I nodded and he took the hand of my good arm much like the monster had done earlier.

_End Flashback_

"Later when we had gotten back to the hotel to find Sam worried sick Dean told me everything. He showed me Dad's journal and he had me read everything in it. Dad was pretty pissed about my shoulder and mine having found out 'the family secret' when he came home, but, like I said, it was bound to happen eventually." I finished my story and shrugged.

Emma let out a snort. "No doubt. That's pretty bad." She said sympathetically.

I shrugged again. "Doesn't matter now. Here I am still hunting these baddies." I gestured around me. "Still getting kidnapped by them."

Emma snorted and we fell into silence again.

Suddenly the light flickered. A white mist began to appear in the center of the room. I grabbed Emma's arm and we slowly stood up.

The white figure began to take the shape of a man. His wrinkled face was drawn and angry. His gray hair was mussed and his clothing was torn. He reached out a hand and drew nearer to us. Emma and I backed ourselves up against the wall scared of what he was going to do.

He grabbed the front of Emma's shirt and yanked her forward. I jumped at the ghost not sure what to do but knowing I had to do something. He lifted his other hand and I flew backwards and hit the wall. The breath was knocked out of me and I couldn't move.

The man threw Emma roughly in the chair. The chains snaked their way around her and despite her struggling they held. The ghost grabbed a knife from the rack along the wall. He made his way back to a wide-eyed Emma and ran the blade down the side of her face.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch!" I screamed struggling against my invisible bonds.

He turned towards me and in a split second I felt the rusty blade drug slowly across my brow. I gasped in pain.

Suddenly a gun shot filled the room. "Hey, fugly!" I heard a familiar voice yell.

"Dean!" I cried. Emma jerked and pulled at the chains to no avail.

"Where is it?"

"He's to your left!" Emma screamed.

Another gun shot, but Dean of course missed. The ghost was getting closer and closer to him now.

"Dean twelve o'clock!" I cried. He shot again this time hitting the spirit and dispelling it for the moment. I dropped to the ground and ran to Emma who had yanked the rusted chains off.

Dean grabbed mine and Emma's shirts and yanked us back up the stairs.

"Where's Sam?" I panted as we came to the top of the stairs.

"Burning a corpse." Dean replied shortly.

"Who's?"

"We found out that the spirit was attached to his sister's body. Took some work, but we finally figured it out. He murdered her and his mom, but the mom was cremated." Dean replied just as sharply. It was at that time that I realized how pissed and scared he was for me.

I saw a fire across the cemetery. I let out a shaky breath.

I grabbed Dean's arm. "I'm sorry, Dean." I said quietly trying to calm his hidden fury and fear.

Dean looked down at me as we made our way toward Sam. He looked over his shoulder at Emma who was trailing back and giving us some space. Dean looked back at me and gave me a hard look. "Yeah. We'll talk about this later." He said lowly.

Sam was watching the body burn when we got there. He wiped his brow and looked up when we approached. Relief was clearly etched into his features when he caught sight of me and Emma. I smiled wryly at him.

"You're brother is so hot." Emma whispered in my ear. I turned to her and rolled my eyes.

"Just kiss him already, why don't ya?." I snapped a little too loudly. It was hard to tell in the firelight whose face was redder, Sam's or Emma's.

A grin crossed Dean's face and he let out a chuckle.

Sam and Dean were leaning up against the car while I said goodbye to Emma.

"Call me if you get into any trouble, alright?" I said as I pulled her into a hug.

"Yeah. I will. And you call me when you find your dad, alright?"

I smiled. "Yeah, will do."

"Or if you just happen to need some girl talk." She said with a grin and a quick glance over my shoulder at my brothers.

I grinned as well. "Don't worry. I will." She hugged me again. When she let go I smiled and waved one last time as I made my way down her front porch steps and toward the parked Impala.

Dean stopped me on the way though and did something so unexpected I almost went for my holy water wandering if he was possessed.

He pulled me into a hug.

"Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you alive." He mumbled.

"Uh, yeah." I managed, than after a moment I said, "Dean, I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." He let go of me only for Sam to wrap his arms around me as well and near squeeze me to death.

"We thought you were dead." He said in a teary voice.

"Yeah, well." I tried as Sam let me go.

"Don't you ever do anything like that again, do you understand me?" Dean cut me off, suddenly stern. He grabbed my arm and gripped it so tightly I winced.

I swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Dean let go of me and got into the Impala. Sam and I followed suit. "And another thing. You're grounded."

"What?" I exclaimed slamming my door shut in surprise.

"No TV, no computer unless you're doing research, no phone unless it's an emergency, and no reading for fun. You're not to leave the hotel room by yourself at all, and you're cleaning all the guns tonight."

I stared at him. "What?" I repeated.

Dean gave me a hard look in the rearview mirror. "You heard me."

I gaped. "You're not serious?" I said with a half laugh, lacking humor.

"Oh, I am very serious."

I looked at Sam for help but he just gave me a sort of half sympathetic look. He shrugged.

I threw myself back against the seat with huff. I crossed my arms and I felt my lip form a pout.

This was going to be a long drive.


	4. Scarecrow

"Where are my brothers?" I questioned as soon as the woman entered the room. "Is Dean all right?"

The woman held up a hand to stop me. "They're fine." She held out her hand for me to shake. "Diana Ballard. Nice to finally meet you. The famous Winchester's." She said almost admiringly. She held out a coffee cup. "Thirsty?"

I looked at it suspiciously but took it and opened the top. "Thanks." I said as I held it up to my mouth. I sniffed to make sure they weren't trying to drug me. I shrugged and took a sip when I was sure it was clean.

"Have a seat." Diana said, gesturing.

I did so while asking, "Why are you holding us? You can't do that without federal charges."

She smiled slightly. "You Winchester's must be psychic or something. Your brother Sam asked me the same thing." I raised my eyebrows questioningly and she continued. "Your brother Dean is here under the suspicion of murder."

My eyes widened. "Murder?" I echoed.

She smirked. "Same reaction, huh? Whoever trained you kids did well. Sam and you are being held under the suspicion of being accessories."

"Accessories." I echoed again. I snorted. "Good luck finding any evidence."

The cop gave me a hard, thoughtful look. She bent down and rested her hands on the table. "Listen here, kid. If you were in my shoes don't you think it would be strange if every time there's any kind of killing going on, you and your brothers are always at the scene of the crime?" She paused and then said. "I know everything about you and your family." She stood up and began circling the table. "I know that your mother's name was Katie Thomas. She was killed not long after your birth, right before you dropped off the map. Your brothers are only your half-brothers. You're nineteen years old. Your father's missing. Your family moved around a lot when you were growing up. You were a straight-A student like Sam. You could have gotten a full ride to college, but you didn't even go to your own graduation last year. We've already run your prints. We got a dozen possible matches."

"Which means that they're worthless." I shot back.

"Yes, for now." She bent back down in front of me. "Listen. You can get out of here. Tell us what we need to know about your brother and you walk."

"I'm not ratting my own brother out like some kind of bratty five year old. Heck, I never even did that when I _was_ five years old."

Ballard gave me a hard look. Finally I made my decision and said, "My dad and Tony Giles were in the marines together. We hurried here as soon as we heard about his death…."

Two hours later the detective left. I'd told her the truth only omitting the supernatural parts of everything.

I thought back over the murder case.

"Dana Shulps." I said to myself. An idea hit me. I scrabbled for a piece of scrap paper on the table and I grabbed a pen. I worked through the anagram quickly and stared down at the words trying to make sense of them.

It wasn't long before I heard a tapping on the window seal behind me. I turned quickly. It was Sam.

I jumped up and quickly opened the window not even bothering to ask questions just hurrying out right after him. We climbed along the side of the building until we came to the fire escape which we shimmied down. We walked up the street quickly, our heads down, and alert to our surroundings.

We waited until we were a few blocks away before I stopped at the nearest phone booth to check the yellow pages. I found the name of the first motel—our way of finding one another when were separated—while Sam "borrowed" a car.

We drove fast, barely speaking, only enough for me to give directions. I didn't have a clue how we were going to get Dean out, we could only hope our big brother saw an opportunity and took it.

Sam checked us into the crappy motel with the alias Jim Rockford. Then we hurried to the room to wait for Dean. But it wasn't Dean that found us. It was the detective Diana Ballard.

We helped her with her ghost problem and managed to save Dean in the process. The normal Winchester work day.

Then while we were hiking back up the road on our way to get the Impala I heard a rustling noise to my left. Thinking it was just the leaves I didn't think too much about it. But when I heard my name from a familiar voice I clenched my fists.

I whirled around to see the trench-coat clad angel standing in the middle of the road. I gritted my teeth. I hadn't seen Castiel since my dad had died and I hadn't planned on ever speaking to him again.

I let my brothers go on ahead and I glared at the angel. "What do you want?" I snapped angrily in a whisper.

Cass' eyes were steely and slightly confused in response to my harsh tone. "We need to talk."

I scoffed and hurried along to catch up to my brothers before they realized something was wrong. I heard the rustle of wings again and before I knew what was happening Castiel was standing in front of me. He placed two fingers to my forehead and I collapsed to the ground.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I was lying in a meadow. I winced at the harsh and sudden sunlight. Everything seemed bright and unnaturally colored. The blue of the sky was too blue. The grass was too green. Even the birds singing seemed false and overly loud.

A shadow loomed over me and I looked up squinting. Castiel held out a hand to help me up. Under normal circumstances I would have knocked it out of the way but I was feeling woozy and weak-kneed so I took it.

"Where the hell are we?" I demanded only this time I kept my tone a bit more polite. I really, _really_ didn't Cass zapping me somewhere every time I got disrespectful with him.

Cass looked at me as though it should've been obvious. "Your mind."

I gave him a blank. "You're saying we're inside my head. You're joking, right?" I gave him a disbelieving look. "I don't think about stuff like _this_."

Cass furrowed his brows. "I don't joke, and yes you do think about stuff like this. This was one of your happiest memories."

I stared, puzzled. Just then I heard laughter from behind me and I whirled around. It was a sharp giggling sound. Like a young girls'.

A boy in his early teens came into view, along with a another younger boy with sandy hair at his side. On the oldest boy's shoulders was a small grinning figure with wild sandy hair flying in every direction. The girl couldn't have been more than five years old.

"De-an." The little girl whined dragging out the name. But she was still laughing and giggling as the boy bounced her up and down.

I sucked a sharp breath. I remembered this now. I _had_ been five. I _was_ the little girl. And the oldest boy was Dean while the other was Sam.

I watched, captivated, as the trio made their way down the hill. The memory stood out among others. It was one of the happiest times of my life.

We had been staying at Bobby's while Dad worked a case, and Sam and I had begged Dean to take us out to the woods out back of Bobby's house. I remembered we'd come across this meadow and we'd stayed here for hours playing around. Finally Bobby had come to get us and bring us back home before dark even though we had all been reluctant to leave. But Bobby had barely let us come out here at all, so we went with him, thankful he'd allowed us out of the house in the first place.

I stared at the happy trio with a forlorn gaze. "Why did you bring me here?" I turned Cass who was watching the threesome soberly.

"Because I'm showing you your version of heaven."

I snapped toward him. "What? Why?"

Cass finally tore his gaze away and looked at me his eyes still sad. "Because one day, you'll see it again. The first time you died you were here."

I furrowed my brow. "What? I was a ghost. I don't remember this.  
"You wouldn't. Your soul came here and your spirit stayed on earth. I wiped your memory when I brought you back. I had orders not to let you remember. But I want you to know that it's not as bad here as others might think."

I got the feeling that when he said _others_ he meant _Dean_.

"What does this have to do with the work you have for me to do?"

Cass didn't answer instead he grabbed my arm. He pulled me along in the opposite direction of the trio and I resisted the urge to look back at them one more time.

"You shouldn't be angry with me. I pulled you back to the living for God's purpose."

"I'm not mad at you because you brought me back, Cass. I'm thrilled you brought me back. I'm mad that you didn't save my father." I snapped, suddenly angry again.

Cass studied me. "I could not have saved your father. He was not needed, like you are."

I bit back an angry retort. Then I felt the fight go out of me. Something always kept me from being angry at Cass. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the whole 'Angel of the Lord' vibe coming from him.

I sighed. My shoulders drooped. "Please take me back to my brothers, Cass" I said quietly.

Cass lifted two fingers to my head but I put up a hand to stop him. "Hold on just a sec." I turned back towards the smiling trio and captured the image in my head forever. "Ok, I'm good. Let's go."

Cass transported us back to the road. It seemed no time had gone by as my brothers were the exact same distance ahead of me as before.

"We will need to speak again, soon." Castiel said before disappearing.

I stared at the spot where he'd been for a moment, still hearing the laughter in my ears. Finally I sighed and ran to catch up to my brothers.


	5. Salvation

"I don't want Dad to go out there alone." Sam confessed once Dad left the hotel room to get some air and think over this whole situation. He had just hung up with Meg.

"Neither do I, but what choice do we have? If Dad doesn't go then Meg will keep killing people and if we're not here to take care of this thing when it comes those people are going to die." Dean sat down heavily.

"Then let me go." I offered.

Both of my brothers' heads shot up and they stared at me. "No!" They said in unison.

I huffed and crossed my arms. "I don't want Dad going alone; I want to be there to have his back." Both of my brothers gave me hard looks but I continued. "Guys, listen, you can take this thing out yourselves. It didn't kill my mom, but I don't want Meg to kill our dad."

"You're not going, Kenzie!" Dean barked.

I glared. "I will, and you can't make me stay. You know I can sneak out and cover my tracks perfectly fine." I scowled at them both.

"Kenzie, if this thing gets Dad, it's bound to figure out your there, too. Then it'll kill you both." Sam reasoned.

"But if I don't go Dad has no chance of getting away. At least he has some chance with me going."

My brothers glanced at each other for a tense moment before Dean finally let out a breath and said, "Alright. Fine. Just, be careful, okay? And call us once you get done."

I smiled wryly. "Thanks. I will. When you go meet Dad tell him that I stayed back to finish some preparations for tonight."

My brothers nodded. They looked so tired and worried I couldn't leave just yet. "Guys, it'll be alright. I'll make sure Dad doesn't get himself killed if you make sure you don't get yourselves killed."

They gave me wry smiles. "Yeah. You don't get yourself killed either or I swear…" Dean trailed off and he gave me a look that I rarely saw. It said _'Please keep safe. I won't be able to live with myself knowing you got hurt because I let you go.' _

I smiled. "Don't worry." I grabbed my gun, some ammo, a knife, and a flask of holy water, and left.

I drove as fast as I could in the hotwired car. Dad was far ahead of me but I didn't want to risk going any faster. When he pulled into the abandoned warehouse I stayed behind and parked out on the street. I waited for about fifteen minutes and then slipped away down the street and up to the back door of the warehouse.

I slipped silently inside and pulled the door closed as quietly as possible. I could hear talking to my right and I slipped behind a large crate slipping my gun out of the waistband of my jeans.

"Maybe I'll just shoot you." I heard Dad say and I crossed my fingers that he would.

"You wanna shoot me baby? Go ahead. There's more where I came from." Meg said and I peered out over the box in time to see a dark headed man enter from the shadows at the back of the warehouse.

"Who the hells that?" Dad asked.

"He's not nearly as much fun as I am I can tell you that. So I suggest you give us the gun." Meg raised her eyebrows, waiting.

Dad stared at the other demon and then looked back at Meg. "Now!" She snapped.

Dad reluctantly held out the fake gun and Meg took it. She looked it over carefully and then she looked back at Dad. "This is the colt?"

Dad nodded and Meg turned back to her companion. She held the gun out for him to take. "What do you think?" She asked.

The demon looked the gun over once, then pointed it upward and cocked it. Then in quick succession he pointed it at Meg and fired it. Meg hunched over and stumbled backwards grabbing at the wound which was bleeding profusely, staining her white shirt.

Meg looked up in disbelief. "You shot me! I can't believe you just shot me!" She cried.

The demon looked back at Dad who suddenly seemed nervous unlike I had ever seen him. "It's a fake." The demon said flinging the gun away. It skittered across the ground and Meg looked up at Dad as well.

"You're dead John. Your kids are dead." She spat.

Dad began backing away slowly his hands held up in defense. "I've never used the gun. How could I know it wouldn't work?"

Meg scoffed and slowly advanced. "I am so not in the mood for this. I've just been shot!"

"Well then I guess you're lucky the gun wasn't real." Dad said mockingly.

Meg gave him a wry and angry grin. "That's funny John. We're going to strip the skin from your bones but that was funny."

I had to do something. They were going to kill him. I looked behind me frantically searching for anything to distract the demons long enough for Dad to get away. Behind me was a gas tank. Perfect. I unscrewed the lid and a hissing noise escaped.

It was enough. Meg and the demon turned my way and Dad made a run for it. Meg and the demon hesitated for a moment unsure whether to see where the noise was coming from or whether they should go after Dad. My heart pounded painfully against my ribcage. They finally made their decision and hurried after Dad instead.

I was relieved and scared at the same time. They hadn't discovered me, but now they were going after Dad instead.

I slipped away from my hiding place, cocking my pistol as I went and taking out my flask of holy water I always kept in my inner jacket pocket. My footsteps echoed along the hallways as I slipped away trying to find where Dad might've gone.

I slunk around corners, through a flooded alleyway. Suddenly as I found my way back to the parking lot I heard a voice behind me. "Going somewhere, Kenzie?"

I whirled around to find Meg grinning wickedly at me. I found myself hurled against the brick wall. My gun went flying and my holy water clattered to the ground. I strained against Meg's will to no avail.

Meg put her face right up to mine. "You know, I always thought you were the smart one out of the Brady Bunch. Maybe I was wrong," She stepped back and grinned. "Or maybe not."

Meg threw back her head and screamed as a black smoke left her mouth. I sucked a sharp breath and I struggled as hard as I could. "Dad!" I screamed helplessly. "Help!"

The smoke turned towards me and my eyes widened in shock. It flew at me and I screamed involuntarily.

Then everything went black.

I opened my eyes to find myself already standing, and alert. I tried to reach around me but I found that my hands instead picked up a familiar black cell phone. It was ringing and I found myself grinning despite how I really felt about seeing the name on the screen.

I answered it and I heard myself say, "You boys really screwed up this time."

"Kenzie? Where's Dad?" Dean's frantic voice asked.

"You're never gonna see your father again."

The phone clicked over the line and a laugh escaped my lips. It was harsh and it felt completely wrong.

_'__Oh, dear Kenzie.'_ A harsh voice said in my head. _'This is going to be _so_ much fun. I'm sure we'll make great meat-suit mates.'_

My vision went dark again, for now.


	6. Don't Fear the Reaper

My life was living hell. I had no control over my body whatsoever. Sometimes I couldn't even form a single thought that was my own. But I knew what I was doing. I knew everything that happened. I remembered the feeling of joy the demon would have when I would have a feeling of complete and utter hopelessness.

I'd been forced to track down my brothers as well. All the way to Bobby's. I felt my body moving toward his front door. I kicked it in.

If I had done so any other time I feel certain Bobby would have yelled at me. Now he was probably going to kill me. And I have to say, I was ready to die by now.

"No more crap, okay?" I heard myself say snidely as I sauntered into the room. I caught Dean's movement. He was unscrewing a flask most likely filled with holy water. I lifted my hand and he flew backwards landing on a pile of books, unconscious. Sam stepped in front of Bobby. "I want the Colt, Sam – the real Colt – right now."

Sam began moving slowly around the room dragging Bobby with him. "We don't have it on us. We buried it." He said.

"Didn't I say "no more crap"? I swear – after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Then Nancy Drew here decides to follow daddy dearest. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it." I head Dean say behind me and I whirled around. He looked up and I followed his gaze. _The Key of Solomon_, some part of me thought. Something I had read about one time while being stuck at Bobby's for a month.

"Gotcha."

When they finished tying me up and stood back I said seductively, "You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask." I grinned at them.

Bobby came back in carrying a container of salt. "I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there – they ain't getting in." He said screwing the lid back on.

Dean nodded and then stepped in front of me. I looked up at him through my lashes and smirked.

"Where's our father, MacKenzie?" He asked.

"MacKenzie? Dear Kenzie's been gone for a while now. Besides, you didn't ask very nice."

Dean's face was expressionless. "Where's our father, bitch?"

I opened mouth in a mocking appalled gesture. "Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don't."

Dean converged on me, his hands coming to either side of my chair. I grinned at him.

"You think this is a frigging game?" He yelled. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming. I killed him myself."

Dean glared at me hate showing clearly in his eyes. Then he hit me. I looked down for a moment, my head spinning in pain. Then I looked up and grinned. I tsked. "What would, Daddy say? You, hitting your sister like that."

"You're not my sister." He said rearing up to hit me again.

"Dean." Bobby said quickly. He started moving into the other room with Sam following. Dean turned to go with them. They whispered amongst themselves and I gave them a sort of half-grin.

Sam grabbed a book off the table and opened it up. He looked over to Dean and they both made their way back over to me.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" I asked.

"Something like that." Dean said almost smugly. "Hit it, Sam"

Sam started reading in Latin and my eyes widened. I turned back to Dean. "An exorcism? Are you serious?" I asked masking my fear.

"Oh we're going for it, baby – head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards."

I flinched at the excruciating pain. I looked back at Sam. "I'm gonna kill you." I heard myself grate out. "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body. And then I'm gonna leave your sister with the thought that she killed you. It'll eat her alive until she can't bear it any longer and she begs to die."

"No, you're gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where our Dad is." He said and I smiled. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

I felt myself shaking. Pain wracked every particle of my body. I gasped and Sam suddenly stopped reading.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged for his daughter not to kill him. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." I ground out.

Sam began reading again as Dean leaned down to me. "For your sake, I hope you're lying. Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God!"

The wind picked up in the room as Sam continued. Pages blew through the air. I grunted in pain and did everything I could not to cry out.

"Where is he?" Dean asked harshly.

"You just won't take "dead" for an answer, will you?" I spat.

"Where is he?" He yelled again.

"Dead!"

"No, he's not! He's not dead! He can't be!" He screamed angrily. I only just realized Sam had stopped reading. Dean glanced up at him panting. "What are you looking at? Keep reading." He ordered.

Finally I couldn't take it. "He will be!" I screamed.

"Wait! What?" Dean asked. Sam stopped reading again.

"He's not dead. But he will be after what we do to him." I all but sobbed.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Sam!" Dean ordered but I cut across before he could keep reading.

"A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City." I cried.

"Missouri? Where, where? An address!" Dean asked desperately.

"I don't know."

"And the demon – the one we're looking for - where is it?" I heard Sam ask.

"I don't know! I swear! That's everything. That's all I know." I sobbed.

"Finish it." Dean said firmly.

My head shot up. "What? I told you the truth!"

"I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised." I cried.

"I lied! Sam?" Dean bellowed. Sam looked at Dean but didn't say anything. "Sam! Read. He ordered.

Sam grabbed his arm and even though they were speaking quietly I could still hear them. "Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know." Dean said tiredly.

"She lied." Sam argued.

"Sam, our sister is somewhere in there. She needs our help." Dean insisted.

"You're gonna kill her." Bobby said coming up behind them.

"What?" Dean asked startled.

"You think that demon's just gonna leave your sister alive. She'll be that demon's last murder if you exorcise it." Bobby explained.

"Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that." Dean said a desperate tone to his voice.

"She is a human being. Your sister at that." Bobby pleaded.

Dean paused and I caught the shimmer of tears in his eyes. "And we're gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it."

Sam looked at Dean, and then Bobby, and then over to me. "Finish it." Dean ordered firmly again.

Sam took a deep breath and continued reading. Unbearable pain wracked my body. Suddenly I threw back my head and screamed. Everything went black.

I opened my eyes. My head hurt. Scratch that. Everything hurt. I tasted blood in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but it just dripped from my dry lips.

I lifted my head slowly and tried to move my mouth. My ears were roaring and my vision was blurry. I made out the stunned faces of my brothers and Bobby and I managed to get out a teary two words. "S-Sammy. D-Dean."

"She's still alive." I heard Dean say disbelievingly. "Call 911. Get some water and blankets." Bobby rushed off while Sam and Dean began untying me.

"Sammy. Dean." I whimpered again.

"Shh, shh. Just take it easy, alright?" Sam whispered soothingly.

"Come on. Let's get her down." Dean said and they both began lifting me gently off the chair to lie on the floor.

Such pain exploded over me that I couldn't even begin to describe it. It felt like my entire body was broken. I screamed in pain as much as my sore throat would allow.

"Sorry, sorry. I got you. I got you. It's okay. It's okay." Sam kept whispering softly to me. I would've smiled at his long-missed soft tone if not for the fact that I felt like my jaw was broken.

"I couldn't m-move my own body." I whispered. "Oh, Sam, Dean. I remember all of it. It was awful." I cried and then I immediately let out a grunt of pain. The demon had basically eaten me alive from the inside. "It w-was a n-nightmare."

"Shh, we got you. It's okay, Kenzie. It's gonna be okay." I heard the tears in Sam's voice and I would've shaken my head if I could've.

"Was it telling us the truth about Dad?" Dean asked.

"Dean—" Sam began but Dean cut him off.

"Please, Kenzie. We gotta know." Dean pleaded.

I swallowed. "Yes. But it wants... you to know... that... they want you to come for him." I said as best I could.

"If Dad's still alive, none of that matters." Dean said resolutely.

Bobby returned with a blanket and he and Sam covered me with it. Dean held the glass of water Bobby'd brought up to my lips to drink.

"Where's the yellow-eyed demon?" Sam asked.

I shuddered. "Not there. Other ones. Awful ones. By the river." I whispered. "Sunrise." I managed to get out as my vision went dark again.

"Sunrise? What does that mean? Kenzie? Kenzie, don't you dare die on me. Kenzie!" I heard Dean say frantically, but I couldn't answer. Darkness washed over me.

I groaned and lifted my head. Surprisingly though, nothing hurt. I expected my head to, if nothing else, over this whole crazy mess.

I was lying in the back seat of the Impala. I blinked. That's strange. I thought I'd still be at Bobby's resting up. I figured my brothers wouldn't have wanted me to come along being so weak.

I can't say I was unhappy at being made to come along. I was thrilled. But it was unlike my brothers to let me come if I was still healing from my time being possessed. I would be a hindrance.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Dean was driving and Sam was riding shot-gun. Nothing new there.

I watched as Dean drove past the exit that would take us to Jefferson City. "Guys that was our turn." I said.

No answer. "Guys, hello. Dean? Sam? You missed the exit back there." I said louder, annoyed that I was being ignored.

I waved my hands in front of their faces. They didn't flinch. This was when panic set in.

"Sam! Dean!" I yelled. "This isn't funny, you two."

I was waiting for them to break into laughing, but it never happened. Sam opened the road map and studied it. "Dean, that was our exit back there."

Dean cursed and made a quick U-turn. "You're supposed to be doing your job, Sam." Dean snapped.

Sam didn't say anything smart back, which seemed a bit...off.

I growled and punched Sam's arm. My hand went right through him. I gasped. My eyes were wide as dinner plates as I looked down at my body. I looked the same as I always had. The only thing missing was the silver cross necklace I always wore.

"Dean. Sam. Please tell me you two are just playing a trick on me." I knew they had never kept up a trick when it brought me to the point of crying. When neither of them answered I slung myself back into the seat. I felt the tears welling in the corners of my eyes.

I was dead. I was well and truly dead. I was only a ghost now. How had this happened though? I'd always thought I would end up in Heaven or Hell. But this, this was unexpected.

So many questions swirled around in my mind: What was I going to do? Why was I still here? Was this what happened to everyone when they died? No surely not, I knew that much. So why was I still here?

Then it hit me.

My necklace. My cross necklace. When I'd thought of it the first time I had felt a small tugging in my stomach and now as I thought of it again I felt another one.

Had I somehow involuntarily latched onto it? Like a cursed object. So that meant it had to be near here.

I looked around me. Not in the backseat. Not in the floor. Then I caught the glint of something silver around Dean's neck. Something besides the amulet Sam had given him. So Dean had taken it from my body, but they obviously didn't know I was still with them as a ghost.

Suddenly I heard the beeping of the EMF reader.

"I thought you said you'd shut that thing up." Dean said annoyed.

"I did. But it's been acting funny since we left Bobby's." Sam answered defensively.

Sam reached around into the backseat and grabbed the duffel where the noise was coming from, coincidentally sticking his hand through my lower abdomen. I shuddered at the strange warmth.

Sam whacked at the reader a few times but it wouldn't shut up. Finally he sighed and took the batteries out of it.

He threw it into the backseat and it flew right through me. I sighed and slumped down into the seat.

My poor brothers. As if they hadn't been through enough now they were going to beat themselves up over this. Then they would do anything stupid they could think of to bring me back if it were possible.

I sighed again. "I don't think I can ever get used to this." I said aloud to myself knowing no one else would hear me. I closed my eyes as two tears trickled down my cheeks.

My brothers didn't speak again until we arrived in Jefferson City.

While they cleaned and readied their weapons I tested what I could still do. I mean, if other spirits could pick up weapons to kill people with surely I would be able to leave a sign for my brothers to figure out I was here.

I tried and tried to pick up random objects in the backseat but nothing worked. Then I tried opening the car door just out of habit and I found myself having to walk straight through it to get out.

"You've been quiet." I heard Sam say and I turned to look at him.

"Just getting ready." Dean said still cleaning his gun.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean." Sam assured him and I assumed they were talking about Dad. After a beat when Dean didn't answer Sam said, "It wasn't your fault. What happened, I mean."

Dean froze still looking down. "I don't want to talk about it." He said gruffly.

"You couldn't have saved her, and you couldn't have just let that demon live inside her. We had no choice, Dean. If you want to blame someone blame the demon, not yourself."

"God damnit, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed throwing his gun down. I don't want to talk about, okay? Is that too much to ask?"

Sam looked back down at his book. Dean huffed and then picked up his gun to continue cleaning it. Sam picked up the book and wiped the dirt off of a corner of the trunk. He began copying a symbol on the car.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car!" Dean exclaimed when he noticed this.

"It's called a Devil's Trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it." Sam explained.

"So?"

Sam finished the symbol and moved around to other side of the trunk. "It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?"

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad." Sam explained.

"What are you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us."

Sam looked over at Dean. "We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon; we've got to use them on 'the demon'."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get."

I sucked a breath. I had to help them somehow. I had to figure out a way.

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun." Sam said impatiently.

"I don't care, Sam." He fumed. "He's gonna be pissed anyway when he finds out I let Kenzie die! I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

"I thought you said you said you didn't want to talk about it—"

"I don't!"

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too." Sam cut him off. "Hell, I mean, you're the one who came and got me at school! You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean said furiously. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. Just like Kenzie." He paused and then said, "You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean." Sam said and Dean scoffed. "I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We can not bring that gun. We can't." He said firmly.

"Fine." Dean said in a somewhat sulky tone.

"I'm serious, Dean."

"I said fine, Sam" Dean said forcefully. He held up the Colt for Sam to see and then tossed it into the trunk.

Sam walked back around the car, but not before throwing one last glare in Dean's direction.

I followed them as they walked along the river, not that I really had a choice being tied to the necklace around Dean's neck.

I watched as they thought of a plan to get into the building and I followed Dean as they executed it. A feeling of utter hopelessness washed over me though at the thought that I wouldn't even be of any use to them. I was nothing more than an observer here.

No wonder ghosts and spirits became crazy, killing psychopaths.

I watched wordlessly as my brothers disguised themselves as firefighters and made their way upstairs with the EMF reader. I barely paid any heed to their talk. I was busy doing my own looking for any traces of where Dad might be. Suddenly I heard the beeping of the reader and I looked up as Dean banged on a door and yelled, "This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate."

When we heard the lock click my brothers threw open the door and turned on their water tanks. They sprayed the shrieking demons with the holy water. Dean managed to get the man in the closet and then Sam managed to get the woman. After Sam had salted around the door they both took off their firemen gear and move toward the bedroom door, slowly opening it.

On the bed was Dad. He was alive. I could tell. Just something about being a ghost makes you able to tell if someone if living or not. Dean confirmed me a few moments later when he leaned down to listen for a heartbeat.

I could barely keep the feeling of happiness from swelling in my chest. At least all of my family was alive now, well minus me, but I didn't even care just so Dean, Sammy, and Dad were fine.

Dean began to cut the bonds on Dad's wrists but Sam stopped him. "Wait. Wait."

"What?" Dean asked looking back at Sam.

"He could be possessed for all we know." Sam reasoned and he had a point. These demons were obviously not playing around.

"What, are you nuts?"

"Dean, we got to be sure."

Dean finally relented and Sam took out the flask of holy water. He sprinkled some onto Dad's chest.

Dad stirred and groaned. "Sam? Why are you splashing water on me?" He asked.

"Dad, are you okay?" Dean asked.

"They've been drugging me. Where's the Colt?" Dad asked anxiously.

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe." Sam assured him.

Dean began cutting him free again. "Good boys. Good boys." He murmured. Then, "Where's your sister?"

My brothers exchanged a pained look and I longed once again to be able to tell them I was still here. I vowed I would find a way to tell them soon.

"She's dead." Dean said quietly.

"What?" Dad asked sharply. His face was a mask of disbelief. "Do I want to know?" He asked lowly, something like a growl in his voice.

I furrowed my brow and frowned. I hadn't expected Dad to react this way to my death. I figured he'd be devastated then angry like my brothers were headed. But not this. It didn't seem real, but maybe it was just me because my brothers didn't seem to find anything strange with it.

Sam and Dean exchanged another look. "The demon Meg possessed her and then when we exorcised it, she," Sam choked up.

"She didn't make it." Dean finished firmly.

Nobody said anything for a moment and then finally Dean said, "We've gotta go." I saw him swipe the back of his hand over his eyes.

The other two nodded and Dean and Sam helped Dad get up and to the door. Then suddenly the door was kicked open. In came a man and a fireman.

"Go! Go!" Sam yelled.

"Back! Back!" Dean added.

They hurried back to the bedroom and slammed the door and locked it before I could get through and I stopped too slowly. I expected to hit the door full blast but instead I went straight through without feeling a thing.

I sighed and then an axe went straight through the back of the door and the back of me. I jumped a bit at the sound and it took me a moment to register what had happened. It infuriated me for whatever reason that it didn't even hurt me.

Sam was salting the door and Dean was helping Dad out of the fire escape. "Sam, let's go!" Dean yelled.

Sam hurriedly jumped out the window to meet them, salting the window on the way out. Instead of climbing down with them though I suddenly found myself directly beside of Dean on the street below. He was helping Dad along while Sam went ahead.

Then a man I recognized from Meg's thoughts and the warehouse suddenly jumped on Sam from seemingly nowhere. He began punching him repeatedly. I cried out in protest and ran to his aid out of sheer instinct, but when I touched the demon my hand went right through him like usual and I came back to myself.

"Sam!" I heard Dean yell. He put Dad down and ran toward Sam. He kicked the man in the face to no effect. He was thrown backwards onto a car, shattering the windshield.

My face was one of perfect horror. Here I was, an observer, unable to do anything about the fact that my brothers were being beaten to death.

I was pulled out of my grim musings by a gun shot. I turned sharply in the direction it had come from. Dean stood holding the smoking Colt and I glanced at where it was pointed. The demon fell over, a red hole in the side of his head.

Dean hurried over to Sam to help him up and I let out a breath (if that's possible), and moved closer to them.

"Come on. We got to get out of here." I heard Dean say as he hurried back over to get Dad.

This whole being a ghost thing was not working for me.

Watching a demon possess your Dad and almost kill your brothers is not the most fun experience.

I couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as my family struggled. I watched as Sam struggled with whether to shoot Dad or not. I watched as Sam managed to get Dad and Dean in the car and take off for the hospital.

As they pulled away I felt the familiar tugging in my gut and I found myself in the backseat with Dean. He was leaning against the window and bleeding badly.

"Oh, gosh." I said putting a hand over my mouth. I reached out and attempted to wipe some of the blood off his face to no avail. He shuddered and his eyes flitted in my direction, but while I knew he couldn't see me, I knew he could sense me whether he realized it or not.

"I'm here, big brother." I whispered. "Just hang on a little longer."

That was when a truck crashed into the side of the car.


	7. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

A bright light was shining down on me, and I wondered if it was the sun. It felt warm and it seemed to come inside of me and make me feel good on the inside. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I blinked and sat up.

_Where am I?_ I thought to myself. I looked around, but I didn't see anything familiar. I was in some sort of white room, the walls shining faintly, but the walls seemed to go on forever.

A loud piercing noise went off inside my head and I flinched.

Then a voice said behind me, "Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you."

I snapped my head around and stood up quickly.

In front of me stood a man, somewhat handsome, wearing a suit and trench coat. His hair was dark and windblown. His eyes were blue and his gaze gentle. A glowy aura seemed to shine out from him, and mirrored on the wall behind him were long, feathery, black wings. I blinked and they disappeared leading me to believe I'd imagined them. His hands were held out in front of him in placating gesture.

"Who are you?" I asked, instinctively shifting into a fighting stance.

"Castiel." He said.

"What are we doing here? Are we both dead?" I questioned.

Castiel shook his head. "No, you're dead. For now. I am an Angel of the Lord. I was sent for you."

I stared at him, my brow furrowed, completely at a loss. So maybe the wings _were_ real after all. "You're an angel?" I asked.

"Yes."

I opened my mouth and then shut it again, still stunned. "So you're saying there is a God?" I asked finally. I mean, I had always believed that if there was bad and chaos out there then there had to be some good also. I don't think my brothers had ever really believed in God, but I suppose I always kinda had.

"Yes." The angel answered.

"And why were you sent for me?" A burst of panic set in. He was _sent_ for me. "Oh, no. No, no, no. I can't go anywhere. I've got to stay with my brothers. I have to go back and make sure they're all right." I took a few steps backwards.

Castiel's face softened. "I was sent to take you back to your brothers. They need you. Heaven has work for you to do."

I furrowed my brow disbelievingly. "You're saying I'm gonna be alive when I go back?"

Castiel nodded and I gaped. All of a sudden, thunder seemed to shake the room or whatever it was we were in. Castiel looked up. "We need to go." He said hurriedly.

"Wait, what—" But I was cut off when he grabbed my arm and I suddenly found myself standing in the hallway of a hospital.

Castiel still had a firm grip on my arm as he looked around.

"What is it?" I asked louder than I meant to and I got several funny looks from passing nurses and patients proving that I was no longer a ghost. That I was no longer dead. I took a deep breath now that I _could_ breathe again. I looked down at my body making sure everything looked the same.

"Can they not see you?" I asked Castiel as a doctor walked right past him without a glance.

"No, I'm only allowing you to, for now." He explained.

I nodded. Turning around I caught a glimpse of two familiar faces behind me. Inside I saw Dean and Sam talking. Dean was in a hospital bed and Sam was standing beside him. Both of them looked pretty beat up, but they were alive. That was all that mattered.

I moved to go toward them but Castiel's grip on my arm stopped me short.

"Wait. You can't just walk in and expect everything to seem normal. They will think something's wrong." Castiel explained and I turned a desperate look on him. His eyes were full of understanding lights and I relaxed under them.

"Ok. I guess you're right." I sighed. "But then how do you expect me to reveal myself to them?"

Castiel glanced into the room. "I haven't exactly worked that out yet." He said hesitantly. "But you can't tell them about me. Not just yet."

I rolled my eyes. Angel or no he was starting to be a bit frustrating. I pulled my arm from his loosened grip and barged into the room.

Probably not my smartest move.

"Sammy. Dean." I practically yelled as I ran up to Sam.

Both boys immediately turned their widened eyes in my direction. "Kenzie?" I heard Dean say quietly.

Then faster that I could blink Sam had pulled his gun. I stopped short, my eyes wide. I held up my hands in yielding gesture.

"Sammy, it's me. It's your sister, MacK. Kenzie." I said in a pleading tone.

"No, you're not her. She's dead." He grated out still not lowering the pistol.

"Test me then. Shoot me if you want. I'm not possessed. I'm not a shapeshifter. I'm alive." I said in a persuading tone.

"Sam, don't do it." I heard Dean say from the bed.

Sam spared him a glance and then shot me a dirty look. "But it can't be her. We saw her die, Dean. With our own eyes."

I held my head as an aching pain shot through it. Flashes of the exorcism flashed through my mind as I remembered the unbearable pain. I barely noticed as I fell to my knees on the floor, gasping for air.

I expected somebody to ask if I was all right but neither of my brothers said a thing. The again, would I have done anything if I were in their position? Of course not. I would have thought it were trick.

I swallowed hard and stood up again on shaking legs. When my vision cleared I noticed Sam had lowered his gun slightly.

I took a deep breath swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. I looked up and Sam and Dean as I blinked back tears of frustration and pain.

"I am your sister." I said quietly.

Silence and tension hung so thick in the room that you probably could have cut it with a knife.

Finally Dean said, "Sam get out the holy water and silver."

Sam stared at Dean. "You actually believe her. You actually believe she's not lying to us."

"I'm saying test her, Sammy. Maybe she's telling the truth. Maybe, I don't know, one of those miracles you keep talking about happened." Dean snapped.

Sam glared at him for moment and then huffed and did as Dean said. "Hold out your wrist." He ordered. I did so and he poured the holy water onto my hand. Nothing happened. Then he took out a silver dagger and sliced it over the palm of my hand. I winced, but nothing more. While he finished up the rest of the tests I wrapped a handkerchief over my hand and tied it tight.

When he was finished poking and prodding he came around and stood in front of me.

"I don't believe it." He said quietly.

I grinned and leaped into his arms. He hesitated less than a moment before wrapping his arms around me so tightly I could scarce breathe. He buried his face in my hair and I did the same taking in his familiar scents. Cheap shampoo, deodorant, and sweat. Not the most wonderful thing in the world but it felt like it to me.

When we finally let go tears glinted in both of our eyes, but we quickly dashed them away. "What about me?" I heard Dean exclaim.

I grinned at him and pounced into his open arms not letting go for several minutes.

"How are you back?" Dean asked me when I pulled away.

I opened my mouth to answer when suddenly I caught the look from a man standing in the doorway. _Castiel_, I thought. I must've looked funny because both of my brothers' heads whipped to the door.

"What is it?" Sam asked. "What do you see?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Just a bit jittery, that's all." I tried for a smile.

Sam nodded, unconvinced. "So?"

I jerked my head back. "So, what?"

"So, how are you back? I mean, we watched you die. We basically," Sam stopped as his voice broke a bit. "I mean, we basically killed you ourselves."

I furrowed my brow and shook my head. "You didn't kill me." I said firmly. "That demon killed me, not you. It's not you twos fault so quit blaming yourselves."

"But—" they both started in and I cut them off.

"No buts. I don't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourselves either." Everyone was quiet for a few minutes until I broke the silence somewhat shyly. "I know what you two went through when I died. I-I was a ghost. I'd somehow attached onto my cross necklace and I ended up following you two around everywhere you went."

Sam and Dean stared at me. Finally Dean said, "So you're saying that you latched onto that necklace and you followed us _everywhere_."

I nodded and Sam looked a bit uncomfortable. "You mean like everywhere. Like in the bathroom—"

I cut him off immediately even though I knew they were just trying to relieve some tension. "No! Gross! I mean, like, when you rescued Dad, and the whole mess with the yellow-eyed demon, and then I ended up here in the hospital, and then, well, I just showed up and I was alive." I said remembering what Castiel had told me about not telling my brothers about him yet.

Both of my brothers gave me a funny look as if they didn't entirely believe me. I quickly changed the subject. "But ya know, after the car wreck it was like I just blacked out, or something. How long was I out? I mean, what all did I miss?"

Sam and Dean shared a glance. "The wreck was a week ago." Sam answered.

My eyes widened. "Hmm, strange."

Sam shifted. "Yeah. It is. And you said you just woke up here? And you were alive."

I deadpanned, not sure what to say. Luckily though I didn't have to answer more of their questions because Dad picked that moment to walk in.

We all turned at the knock on the door. Dad was looking at Dean but suddenly he stopped short. He gaped at me for a few minutes until finally I smiled and jumped into his arms.

He hugged me tight for several minutes. Then he pulled back, "How?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." I said my voice going up an octave when I lied. Castiel rolled his eyes from the doorway and I was tempted to stick my tongue out though somehow I don't think it would have seemed appropriate given that no one else could see the angel besides me.

Dad hugged me again and when he pulled back something didn't seem right. There was strange glimmer in his eyes. A pain deeper than I had ever seen before shone there.

He moved closer to Dean's bed his arm still wrapped around my shoulders. "How you feeling, dude?"

Dean shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I'm alive." He looked at me and smiled and I returned it.

"That's what matters." Dad said softly.

We were all silent for a moment when suddenly Sam exploded angrily. "Where were you last night?"

Dad turned toward him and I sucked deep breath. Please, oh please, don't let them start an argument. Not here, not now.

"I had some things to take care of." Dad answered calmly.

"Well, that's specific." Sam retorted.

"Come on, Sam." Dean said exasperatingly.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asked ignoring Dean's pleas and my '_please just shut up_' look.

"No."

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam snapped.

"Sammy." I pleaded quietly.

Dad tightened his grip on my shoulders. "Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?" He was pleading.

I glanced up at him and then exchanged a look with Dean. We all looked back at Sam.

Sam looked a little taken aback. "Dad, are you all right?" He asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired." Dad said distractedly. "Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine? And why don't you get your sister something to eat. I'm sure she's pretty hungry."

Now that I thought about it I was fair starving. I suppose I would be given I hadn't eaten for a while now, and I wasn't a ghost anymore.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Sam said. Dad gave me one last squeeze and then let me follow after Sam.

I caught Castiel's empathetic look on my way out, but I couldn't ask him what was wrong right now.

I trotted after my brother to the hospital's cafeteria. We didn't speak on the way. I mean, what did you really talk about after you just came back from the dead? I wasn't sure. I wondered if things would ever seem normal again. Maybe now that we were all a family again it could be like it was before Sam left for Stanford. All of us, hunting down the demon that killed my brothers' mom. As long as we were a family, I didn't care what happened.

Sam promised to take me to get a real meal later rather than making me eat nasty hospital food for which I was grateful. Instead I bought a cream cheese pastry and nibbled on it on the way back to Dean's room.

I'd managed to eat the whole thing by the time we got back and I was about to enter Dean's room when I heard a thud and I felt something wet and scalding splash the back of my legs. I turned in time to see Sam dash into a room and I heard him screaming for help.

I hurried to him to see what was wrong, and saw Dad sprawled on the floor.

Me and my brothers stood in the doorway watching in horror as the doctors tried to revive our Dad.

I barely heard anyone speaking. I couldn't tear my eyes from my father's lifeless face. I felt the tears on my cheeks that I didn't even bother holding in check.

"Okay, that's it everybody." I heard the doctor say. I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. "I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 am."

I sat slumped in my chair staring at a watercolor painting of a lake, sunset, and swans. Sam was getting the car and Dean was checking out.

I sighed. Why couldn't my life be as simple and cheery as the couple picnicking on the banks of the lake in the painting?

"I couldn't have helped your father." I heard a rough, familiar voice say beside me.

I jumped and looked to my right where Castiel was sitting his head bowed, fingers intertwined in his lap.

I looked around and seeing no one in the waiting area with me I said, "Don't speak to me." My voice was rough from crying.

"MacKenzie, I'm sorry about your father. But I could not have done anything. I couldn't interfere with something I have not been given permission for." I jumped again at the hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged it off. "Leave me alone, Cass. And it's MacK." I said hollowly.

I felt Castiel sympathetic eyes on my bowed head. "If you need me, just ask for me."

I didn't look up but I knew he'd gone. He still hadn't explained what he needed me to do and right now I wasn't pushing.

"Hey. You ready?" I heard Sam say from the doorway.

I looked up and saw Dean shouldering his duffel. I took a deep breath and nodded.

We burned Dad's body that night deep in the woods.

Sam cried silently the entire time and I caught Dean blinking his eyes rapidly during most of the proceedings. I let out a couple involuntary sobs, but other than that, all was quiet.

We spent over a week at Bobby's. I did my best to keep busy. I did research on different places the demon might be. I looked for jobs to do. I cooked for Bobby and my brothers, and I cleaned Bobby's entire house at least three times. I knew my brothers were worried about me. I mean, I _never_ did house work. _Ever_.

But they didn't bother me. They had their own stages of grief and I had mine. I was worried about Dean though. He was the closest to Dad with me being second. Sam was of course upset, but not as much as me and Dean.

Weeks went by. We went on hunts, did plenty of our "normal" things, especially when Dean got his car fixed back up.

Plenty of unnatural supernatural things happened. It was expected with our cursed lives. Meeting Jo was fun. She was a lot like me. More my type of person.

Then with our cursed luck, Dean got arrested. Leading to both mine and Sam's as well.


	8. The Usual Winchester Day

"Where are my brothers?" I questioned as soon as the woman entered the room. "Is Dean all right?"

The woman held up a hand to stop me. "They're fine." She held out her hand for me to shake. "Diana Ballard. Nice to finally meet you. The famous Winchester's." She said almost admiringly. She held out a coffee cup. "Thirsty?"

I looked at it suspiciously but took it and opened the top. "Thanks." I said as I held it up to my mouth. I sniffed to make sure they weren't trying to drug me. I shrugged and took a sip when I was sure it was clean.

"Have a seat." Diana said, gesturing.

I did so while asking, "Why are you holding us? You can't do that without federal charges."

She smiled slightly. "You Winchester's must be psychic or something. Your brother Sam asked me the same thing." I raised my eyebrows questioningly and she continued. "Your brother Dean is here under the suspicion of murder."

My eyes widened. "Murder?" I echoed.

She smirked. "Same reaction, huh? Whoever trained you kids did well. Sam and you are being held under the suspicion of being accessories."

"Accessories." I echoed again. I snorted. "Good luck finding any evidence."

The cop gave me a hard, thoughtful look. She bent down and rested her hands on the table. "Listen here, kid. If you were in my shoes don't you think it would be strange if every time there's any kind of killing going on, you and your brothers are always at the scene of the crime?" She paused and then said. "I know everything about you and your family." She stood up and began circling the table. "I know that your mother's name was Katie Thomas. She was killed not long after your birth, right before you dropped off the map. Your brothers are only your half-brothers. You're nineteen years old. Your father's missing. Your family moved around a lot when you were growing up. You were a straight-A student like Sam. You could have gotten a full ride to college, but you didn't even go to your own graduation last year. We've already run your prints. We got a dozen possible matches."

"Which means that they're worthless." I shot back.

"Yes, for now." She bent back down in front of me. "Listen. You can get out of here. Tell us what we need to know about your brother and you walk."

"I'm not ratting my own brother out like some kind of bratty five year old. Heck, I never even did that when I _was_ five years old."

Ballard gave me a hard look. Finally I made my decision and said, "My dad and Tony Giles were in the marines together. We hurried here as soon as we heard about his death…."

Two hours later the detective left. I'd told her the truth only omitting the supernatural parts of everything.

I thought back over the murder case.

"Dana Shulps." I said to myself. An idea hit me. I scrabbled for a piece of scrap paper on the table and I grabbed a pen. I worked through the anagram quickly and stared down at the words trying to make sense of them.

It wasn't long before I heard a tapping on the window seal behind me. I turned quickly. It was Sam.

I jumped up and quickly opened the window not even bothering to ask questions just hurrying out right after him. We climbed along the side of the building until we came to the fire escape which we shimmied down. We walked up the street quickly, our heads down, and alert to our surroundings.

We waited until we were a few blocks away before I stopped at the nearest phone booth to check the yellow pages. I found the name of the first motel—our way of finding one another when were separated—while Sam "borrowed" a car.

We drove fast, barely speaking, only enough for me to give directions. I didn't have a clue how we were going to get Dean out, we could only hope our big brother saw an opportunity and took it.

Sam checked us into the crappy motel with the alias Jim Rockford. Then we hurried to the room to wait for Dean. But it wasn't Dean that found us. It was the detective Diana Ballard.

We helped her with her ghost problem and managed to save Dean in the process. The normal Winchester work day.

Then while we were hiking back up the road on our way to get the Impala I heard a rustling noise to my left. Thinking it was just the leaves I didn't think too much about it. But when I heard my name from a familiar voice I clenched my fists.

I whirled around to see the trench-coat clad angel standing in the middle of the road. I gritted my teeth. I hadn't seen Castiel since my dad had died and I hadn't planned on ever speaking to him again.

I let my brothers go on ahead and I glared at the angel. "What do you want?" I snapped angrily in a whisper.

Cass' eyes were steely and slightly confused in response to my harsh tone. "We need to talk."

I scoffed and hurried along to catch up to my brothers before they realized something was wrong. I heard the rustle of wings again and before I knew what was happening Castiel was standing in front of me. He placed two fingers to my forehead and I collapsed to the ground.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I was lying in a meadow. I winced at the harsh and sudden sunlight. Everything seemed bright and unnaturally colored. The blue of the sky was too blue. The grass was too green. Even the birds singing seemed false and overly loud.

A shadow loomed over me and I looked up squinting. Castiel held out a hand to help me up. Under normal circumstances I would have knocked it out of the way but I was feeling woozy and weak-kneed so I took it.

"Where the hell are we?" I demanded only this time I kept my tone a bit more polite. I really, _really_ didn't Cass zapping me somewhere every time I got disrespectful with him.

Cass looked at me as though it should've been obvious. "Your mind."

I gave him a blank. "You're saying we're inside my head. You're joking, right?" I gave him a disbelieving look. "I don't think about stuff like _this_."

Cass furrowed his brows. "I don't joke, and yes you do think about stuff like this. This was one of your happiest memories."

I stared, puzzled. Just then I heard laughter from behind me and I whirled around. It was a sharp giggling sound. Like a young girls'.

A boy in his early teens came into view, along with a another younger boy with sandy hair at his side. On the oldest boy's shoulders was a small grinning figure with wild sandy hair flying in every direction. The girl couldn't have been more than five years old.

"De-an." The little girl whined dragging out the name. But she was still laughing and giggling as the boy bounced her up and down.

I sucked a sharp breath. I remembered this now. I _had_ been five. I _was_ the little girl. And the oldest boy was Dean while the other was Sam.

I watched, captivated, as the trio made their way down the hill. The memory stood out among others. It was one of the happiest times of my life.

We had been staying at Bobby's while Dad worked a case, and Sam and I had begged Dean to take us out to the woods out back of Bobby's house. I remembered we'd come across this meadow and we'd stayed here for hours playing around. Finally Bobby had come to get us and bring us back home before dark even though we had all been reluctant to leave. But Bobby had barely let us come out here at all, so we went with him, thankful he'd allowed us out of the house in the first place.

I stared at the happy trio with a forlorn gaze. "Why did you bring me here?" I turned Cass who was watching the threesome soberly.

"Because I'm showing you your version of heaven."

I snapped toward him. "What? Why?"

Cass finally tore his gaze away and looked at me his eyes still sad. "Because one day, you'll see it again. The first time you died you were here."

I furrowed my brow. "What? I was a ghost. I don't remember this.  
"You wouldn't. Your soul came here and your spirit stayed on earth. I wiped your memory when I brought you back. I had orders not to let you remember. But I want you to know that it's not as bad here as others might think."

I got the feeling that when he said _others_ he meant _Dean_.

"What does this have to do with the work you have for me to do?"

Cass didn't answer instead he grabbed my arm. He pulled me along in the opposite direction of the trio and I resisted the urge to look back at them one more time.

"You shouldn't be angry with me. I pulled you back to the living for God's purpose."

"I'm not mad at you because you brought me back, Cass. I'm thrilled you brought me back. I'm mad that you didn't save my father." I snapped, suddenly angry again.

Cass studied me. "I could not have saved your father. He was not needed, like you are."

I bit back an angry retort. Then I felt the fight go out of me. Something always kept me from being angry at Cass. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the whole 'Angel of the Lord' vibe coming from him.

I sighed. My shoulders drooped. "Please take me back to my brothers, Cass" I said quietly.

Cass lifted two fingers to my head but I put up a hand to stop him. "Hold on just a sec." I turned back towards the smiling trio and captured the image in my head forever. "Ok, I'm good. Let's go."

Cass transported us back to the road. It seemed no time had gone by as my brothers were the exact same distance ahead of me as before.

"We will need to speak again, soon." Castiel said before disappearing.

I stared at the spot where he'd been for a moment, still hearing the laughter in my ears. Finally I sighed and ran to catch up to my brothers.


	9. Holy Houses and Friends in High Places

"In other news a man was stabbed last night at his home in Providence, Rhode Island. The woman who killed him, Gloria Sitnick, age 37, then came to the cops and confessed. The catch? She claims an angel made her do it. This is the second killing that has happened in the past two months. Both times have been the same. The murderer claiming an angel made them do it. We're live from her room in The Agape Center psychiatric ward right now."

My head popped up from the article I was reading about a possible job in Alabama. "Dean. Turn up the TV."

Dean snorted in his sleep. "Hmm." He moaned from his spot on the couch.

I hurried over to television and turned it up myself. The reporter was speaking to a woman with sandy hair. "Yes, it's like I said. An angel of the Lord appeared before me. He told me that I had to kill this man. That he was a sinner."

"So you did what he said? Why?"

"The angel told me it was the will of God. I was chosen to do so."

The camera was directed back to the reporter. "Well, there you have it folks. Cameron, back to you."

I ran back to the table and grabbed my phone. "Dean, wake up. Wake up!" I called as I dialed Sam's number.

"Yeah." Sam asked finally answering.

"Sam, I found us a job." I said breathlessly.

"Really? Where?"

"Providence, Rhode Island." I answered. I heard Dean groan and begin to get off the couch.

"You got us a job?" He asked a hint of excitement gleaming in his green eyes. He swiped a hand over his face.

I nodded. "Cool." Sam replied. "I'll be there in about ten minutes. Tell me then."

"Okay, bye." I hung up and grabbed Sam's laptop. I typed in 'Angel in Providence' to get started on some research.

Then something hit me. An angel? No it couldn't be, could it? Maybe I should ask Cass about this one, I thought. If it really was an angel we need to leave it alone. I mean, Castiel would know about one of his own brothers, right?

"Hey, Dean. I'm uh, gonna go get some fresh air. I'm feeling a bit queasy. I think it was that taco from earlier."

Dean looked at me, concerned. "You gonna be alright?"

I nodded pretending to double over slightly. "Yeah, just need some fresh air. Getting a little claustrophobic in here."

Dean nodded. "Come and get me if you start to feel worse, alright?"

I nodded, still faking sick. I hurried outside barely stopping to grab my jacket. I walked briskly down the street and around toward the back of the motel. I looked around me and when I was sure the coast was clear I looked up.

"Hey, Cass, if you're not too busy, I um, I have some questions to ask you."

There was the flutter of wings behind me and I turned. Castiel stood shrouded in the shadow of the alley, but parts of him were illuminated by the street lamp. On the walls behind him I caught the shadow of large, black, feathery wings.

I smiled. "Cass, haven't seen you in a while. You're looking good."

Castiel inclined his head. "MacK. It's been quite some time before I could get away."

He stepped closer until he was only a few inches from me. I backed up a little. I'd forgotten about his personal space issue.

"Um, Cass." I said awkwardly, putting my hands up.

"Oh, sorry." He stepped back a bit and I straightened. He tilted his head. "You called for me?"

"Right, um, Cass, you wouldn't happen to know if there were any of your, you know, brothers out there telling prostitutes to murder because it was God's will, would you?"

Cass drew his brows together and tilted his head again slightly. "No. Not that I know of. God would not command a sinner to atone by committing murder of another. Everyone deserves forgiveness and redemption no matter what they may have done."

I nodded. "So no one's telling those people to kill." I muttered to myself.

"What?" Castiel asked, clearly puzzled.

I shook my head. "Nothing." I smiled. "Just found a job and had few questions for my guardian angel."

Cass nodded. "Actually I was about to come find you. There's something we need to talk about."

I had already started back up the alleyway not wanting Dean to start worrying. I stopped and without turning asked, "What? Can't it wait? My brothers will start to worry."

I felt Castiel walk up behind me. "It's important."

I sighed and turned. "How long you think it will take?"

I stared at Cass over my mug of steaming hot chocolate not quite comprehending.

Cass' gaze never left my face and he was still waiting for an answer. I raised my eyebrows as I finally pulled my jaw off the table. "You want me to _what_?" I exclaimed drawing a few roaming eyes over to our table.

I noticed people were already staring at us. I mean, a nineteen year old girl in a café with a thirty year old man. That was normal.

"I want you to read Deuteronomy 28:1 and then give me an answer."

"Cass, how am I going to do that?"

Castiel looked at me blankly. "You don't have a Bible?"

I raised one eyebrow. "No."

Cass looked generally shocked. Or maybe I just knew he was because his face barely changed. "Oh, I see." He brought his hand up from under the table and handed me a thick, leather bound book.

I took it from him and slid it in my jacket. "I'll get back to you, but right now I have to get back to my brothers before they start to panic."

"Yes, I understand." Castiel nodded and stood. He walked with me back to the motel room and just as I was knocking on the door to be let in I heard the sound of wings and I knew he'd left.

I sighed and tried not to resent Sam too much for leaving me to babysit Dean while he went to check out this Gloria lady in the ward.

I scrolled through Sam's laptop scouring websites for all the lore on avenging sprits and demons I could find. I, of course, knew it wasn't an angel thanks to Cass, but I couldn't get Sam to believe me and whenever I'd bring it up he'd get all huffy and defensive so I had let it be.

I heard Dean pop another quarter into the Magic Fingers and lean back down. I heard Metallica blaring from his headphones. I slipped my headphones on as well and flipped through my IPod till I came to "Don't Stop Believing". I turned the volume up and tapped my pencil on the table to the tune.

It was at least a half hour, and eight songs later when I heard the door close. My eyes were swimming and I'd found nothing so far. I pulled my headphones off and looked up as I scrubbed a hand over my face.

I looked at Sam expectantly while he got Dean's attention. Eventually Dean seemed to be pulled out of his reverie and he looked up.

"Hey. Man, you gotta try this, I mean there really is magic in the Magic Fingers."

Sam gave him a disgusted look. "Dean, you're enjoying that way too much, it's kind of making me uncomfortable."

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean protested throwing his hands up. "I mean, you've got me on lockdown here, I'm bored out of my skull."

"Hey, you were the bank robber on the eleven o'clock news, not me. We can't risk you just walking into a government facility."

"Hmm." Dean seemed to go back into his daydream.

Sam waved his hand dismissively and went into the bathroom. I closed his computer as I heard the Magic Fingers stutter to a halt.

"Aw, damnit! That was my last quarter." Dean sat up. "Hey! Either of you got any quarters?" Dean crossed to the bathroom where Sam was washing his face.

"No!" Sam and I said in unison.

"So did you get in to see that crazy hooker?" Dean asked. I looked at Sam anxiously.

"Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy."

"But she seriously believes she was touched by an angel?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace." Sam said, his eyebrows raised slightly.

Dean looked as though he was refraining from rolling his eyes. "Oh yeah, you're right, that sounds completely sane. What about the dude she stabbed?"

"Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil."

"Was he?" Dean and me asked simultaneously.

"I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked over at the campus library, had lots of friends, he was a churchgoer." Sam shrugged.

"Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion, know what I mean?"

I shrugged my eyebrows at that reason, hoping Sam would buy it.

He didn't.

"No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little odd, don't you think?" Sam reasoned.

"Well, odd yes, supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so."

"Why not?" Sam asked defensively.

Dean stared and then said as if it were obvious. "Because there's no such thing, Sam."

I waited for the angst and yelling to start.

"Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted."

"Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass."

Sam sat down across from me and deadpanned. "Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?"

Dean stared for a half a moment and then gave a sarcastic look. "That's cute. I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under "bullcrap"."

"And you've got angels on the bullcrap list."

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because I've never seen one."

"So what?"

"So, I believe in what I can see." Dean shot back.

"Dean!" Sam reasoned. "You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about."

"Exactly. With our own eyes, that's hard proof, okay? But in all this time I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed that we would have crossed paths with them? Or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? No. This is a, a demon or a spirit, you know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms."

"Maybe."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can we just — I'm going stir-crazy man. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?"

I looked at Sam hoping to get out of this dump for a while too.

"I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF." Sam said and I suppressed a sigh.

"You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?" Dean asked sarcastically and I suppressed a giggle at the thought of what Cass would think of that.

"But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway."

"Could be something at his house, worth checking out." Dean said eagerly and I jumped up.

Sam looked at me. "You have any luck?"

I sighed. "Nope." I said popping the 'p.'

Sam nodded. "Alright. Then let's go check this out."

I watched as my brothers pried up the cellar door. I heard a noise behind me and I turned.

My eyes widened at the sight of Cass standing not two feet behind me. I did my best not to jump and give away to my brothers that anything was wrong.

I looked back at Sam and Dean who had turned on their flashlights and were making their way into the cellar. Sam looked over his shoulder, puzzled. "You comin'?"

I nodded. "Uh, yeah. Just, just a minute. I think I saw something behind the house. You two go ahead."

Sam nodded, but his brow was still furrowed like he didn't quite believe me. Did I mention I'm awful at lying to my brothers?

I waited until they had gone all the way down before turning to deal with the angel.

"Yeah. What is it?" I asked.

"Have you decided?" He asked.

I deadpanned. I had totally forgotten about Cass' request. "Oh. Uh, no, ya see, I haven't exactly gotten around to reading those scriptures yet. I've been a bit busy lately." I gestured behind me.

Cass tilted his head. "I see."

"But I will soon." I added quickly. For some reason the almost disappointment in his voice made me feel bad.

Cass seemed to tilt his head further and his eyes lifted up slightly as though he wasn't even listening to me. Then he looked back down with an almost apologetic glance. "I'm afraid I need to show you something."

"Now?"

"Now."

I glanced back where my brothers were still in the cellar. I turned back. "Uh, Cass, I'm a little—"

But I was cut off abruptly when Castiel reached out and grabbed my arm. My world did a one eighty and I found myself inside a large cathedral. The ceiling domed over top of us and row after row of pews lined the carpeted floor. A long wooden walkway cut through the middle. Stained glass windows depicted portraits of angels and crosses. Great wooden arches loomed over us.

I felt Cass leading me up the aisle as I stared. I mean, sure we'd been in plenty of churches plenty of times to do research. But this place was _huge_.

"Cass, where are we?" I asked, awe in my voice.

"St. Michael's Catholic Church."

I stared. "Where's that?"

"Houston, Texas."

I raised my eyebrows. "And why are we here again?"

Cass didn't answer. Instead he led me up behind the altar to where a large, floor to ceiling cross was hanging on the wall.

Cass let go of me finally and turned to look at me. "Because there are some things you need to know."

I stared and waited while he stared at the cross hanging on the wall albeit with a twinge of sadness clouding his face. Finally he asked, "Do you know the names of the Archangels?"

The question caught me off guard, but this was Cass. I should be prepared for him to ask anything.

I thought for a moment. I knew I had come across the names somewhere. "Uh, there's Gabriel, and Michael, and Raphael, I think."

Cass nodded. "Yes. But there used to be four." A faraway look came into his eyes. "There was also Lucifer. Before he fell."

I opened my mouth starting to remember something about it. "Yeah, that's right. He rebelled or something so God threw him out of Heaven, right?"

Castiel nodded. "So what does this have to do with me?" I asked.

Cass turned to look at me again. "We need you and your brothers' help."

My eyes widened. "So why didn't you bring my brothers, too?"

Castiel gave me a look as though it should have been obvious, which felt strange coming from Heaven's most clueless angel. "It's not time to tell them."

I huffed and put my hands on my hips though I wasn't really irritated too much. "What is it with you immortals? You're all so patient. You realize humans don't swing that way, right? We don't have a millennium to sit around twiddling our thumbs, ya know."

"That's because your species is corrupt and—"

"Human." I cut him off.

Cass gave me a look. "Precisely."

I snorted. "Jeez, you must not have been down here since the gates to the Garden of Eden were closed."

Cass gave me a puzzled look. "I have never been on earth until recently."

I raised my eyebrows and mumbled, "Well you can certainly tell." I rolled my eyes. "Anyways, what do you need me to do exactly?"

"We need you to—"

His answer was cut short by a rumbling. The building began to shake and chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling. I fell over, but Castiel looked up as though it were only a minor disturbance.

"What the hell's going on?" I cried over the noise.

"There's no need to curse." Cass scolded blankly.

I raised my eyebrows. "And why the heck not? The building's about to cave!"

Castiel gave me a funny look. "Why would you think that?" He tilted his head.

I widened my eyes at him and gave a disbelieving look. _God save me from clueless immortals_, I thought.

Before I could throw some obscenities his way he said, "Why don't you have faith that God will deliver you."

_Or how about _you_ deliver me outa here,_ I thought. But instead I said, "OK, fine." I stood up slowly, panting, and suddenly everything was still.

Cass was still giving me a funny look, and something else glimmered in his eyes. Curiosity, maybe. "It seems that I am needed again. We will finish this another time."

"What?" I spluttered, caught off guard for moment expecting him to say anything other than that, but I found myself standing in front of Carl Gully's house. I looked around wildly. Cass was gone and the sun was beginning to go down. My brothers were going to be _so_ worried. I hurried down the cellar in time to see them throwing dirt back over a corpse.

Dean leaned on his shovel and looked at me. "Where were you? I was getting ready to come looking. Find anything?"

Sam threw another shovelful of dirt into the hole and then looked up at me. I blanked.

"Uh, n-no." I stuttered. "Nothing. Just the wind I guess." I gave a breathy, nervous laugh.

My brothers shared a glance and then Dean tossed me a shovel. "Yeah, well since you're here now it's your turn to dig."

I caught the shovel easily with an evil look to Dean who gave me a smug smile.

We entered the church slowly and gazed around. I realized I had just been in a church only just yesterday.

We had come straight from the second victim, Frank's house after finding the flier.

An older man entered from the back of the church. A soft smile was on his face as he stopped in front of us. "Father Reynolds." He introduced. "And who might you three be?"

"Uh, I'm Sam; this is my brother Dean, and our sister MacK." Sam gestured to each of us in turn. I smiled in greeting as the priest's eyes landed on me. "We're new in town."

"So you're interested in joining the parish?" The Father asked as he began walking slowly back down the aisle.

"Yeah, well, you know, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday." Dean said.

"Where'd you say you lived before?" Father Reynolds asked us.

"Uh," Both me and Sam deadpanned.

"Fremont, Texas." Dean smiled.

"Yeah." Sam and I agreed.

"Really? That's a nice town. St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there." The Father looked at us expectantly.

"Sure, yeah, no it's uh, Father O'Malley." Dean said lamely.

Father Reynolds furrowed his brow. "Hmm, I know a Father Shaughnessy."

"Shaughnessy, exactly. What'd I say?"

"You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father." Sam interrupted.

"And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here." Father Reynolds said grimly.

"Hey, listen, I gotta ask — no offense, but uh, the neighborhood?" Dean asked.

Father Reynolds sighed sadly. "Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off." He gave a small smile.

"Huh. Yeah, we heard about the murders."

"Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine; I'd known them for years." Father Reynolds looked off sadly.

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Sam asked. I pursed my lips knowing where this was headed.

"Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic." Father Reynolds shook his head sadly.

"So you don't believe in those angel yarns?" Dean asked.

"Oh, no, I absolutely believe." Father Reynolds reassured him. "Kind of goes with the job description."

Sam nodded and then pointed to a painting on the wall. "Father, that's Michael, right?"

Father Reynolds turned and I almost gasped at the familiar painting I'd seen in the Texas cathedral.

"That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons, holy force against evil."

"So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?" Sam looked at him expectantly.

"Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful; but yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors." I nodded slightly at that remembering how Cass acted. He could be pretty "loving" I suppose. But he was a warrior. The Father continued, ""An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified"." Sam nodded while Dean looked confused. I stared and then nodded. "Luke. Two nine."

I tapped my pencil against the table. We'd finished the case barely an hour ago and I'd sadly proved to Sam that it was a spirit, not an angel. But I felt bad not being able to tell my brothers that there really were angels and a God.

When Dean had taken off after the "evil" man and me and Sam had headed to the church to take care of the séance ritual I had dared to let myself hope that Cass had been wrong. I mean, angels are wrong sometimes too, right? But when the ghost of the dead priest had appeared I felt my spirits fall to the concrete floor and shatter.

I'd so badly wanted to prove to Sam that angels were real. But now I would have to wait until Castiel let me tell them. If he ever did.

I glanced over where Sam was packing his things. We were waiting for Dean to get back, and then we were hitting the road again.

Suddenly I heard the rustle of wings. I turned behind me not even surprised. I glanced at Sam to make sure he wasn't watching and then jerked my head toward the door slightly.

I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on. "Hey, Sam, I'm gonna go for a walk."

Sam nodded not even looking up. "K."

I bit my lip. I felt awful that I couldn't tell him anything. I glanced at Cass who hadn't moved, but his head was tilted upward slightly his eyes directly on me. He was challenging me, I knew.

"Sam." I said going back to him and laying a hand on his arm. He glanced down at me through his lashes. "Don't give up your faith. Don't doubt. Just because this was one time doesn't mean that there's not angels: that there's not a God."

He gave me a weak smile but he didn't do anything but sigh. I turned back towards the door and I noticed Cass watching me. A slight glimmer of approval gleamed in his eyes.

I walked quickly down the icy street, waiting for the telltale sound of rustling wings. I did and I heard Cass fall into step beside me.

After a long moment he asked, "Have you decided?"

I stopped and stared down the dark street. A broken stoplight flashed yellow up ahead. A little ways down an old gray-haired lady was locking up her store for the night. And even farther down two teenagers walked hand in hand, the girl laughing, the boy smiling to himself.

I turned to face Cass who was also watching the scene ahead. When he glanced back to me I smiled wryly and said, "Yes. I'll do it."


	10. Born Under Bad Signs

A week had passed since my chat with Cass. After I'd said yes Cass had asked me to repeat an oath. I was hesitant at first but I'd done so. The words he'd had me repeat were burned into my memory either by supernatural force or coincidence, I wasn't sure.

_"I give myself over wholly to the service of God and his angels."_ I'd said.

_"Do you swear to follow His will and His word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?"_

I had cringed slightly at that. _"Yeah, I swear."_

Cass had nodded in approval._ "Will you be a willing vessel for God's work?"_

_"Yes."_

Cass nodded again. _"I will keep in touch."_ Then he'd taken off.

I stared out the window of the Impala remembering that night. I was starting to have doubts about this the more I thought about it. But I pushed them aside not allowing myself to dwell on them.

I lifted my head from the cold window and sat up rubbing my eyes. Ever since I'd died I couldn't help but remember the time I'd been in the backseat of the Impala trying to get Sam and Dean's attention not knowing I was ghost.

I shuddered as I thought about it again. Dean and Sam hadn't ignored me again since I'd told them about it for which I was grateful. I probably would have burst into tears if something like that happened again.

"Where we at?" I asked groggily. We hadn't stopped driving for three days, all of us taking turns sleeping and driving.

"Uh, somewhere out of Illinois." Dean said glancing back at me.

I breathed in deeply and glanced at Sam in the front seat. He was leaning back against the headrest his mouth open. A little bit of drool dribbled down the side of his chin. It was pretty laughable and I quickly pulled out my cell to get a picture of it.

Dean grinned and shook his head when he saw what I was doing but he didn't say anything. When I was through he poked Sam in the ribs causing Sam to jump up and groan. He wiped a hand down his face and I resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

"What? Where are we?" He garbled.

I grinned. "Rise and shine, Sammy."

Sam glared at me and then looked at the dashboard where the time read 4:30 a.m. Sam groaned again.

"Where are we?" He repeated.

"Illinois." Dean and I replied in unison.

Sam groaned for a third time. Dean looked at him and then turned back to the road. "What is it?" He asked.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Just a really bad headache."

I winced in sympathy and dug some painkillers out of my backpack for him.

Dean finally stopped driving that night and I slept like the dead. Bad joke, huh?

The next morning however I woke to a panic. Dean was tearing up the hotel room and sprouting curses worse than a sailor.

"Dean, what the heck's wrong?"

Dean turned toward me clenching his phone in his hand so hard I was afraid he might break it. "Sam's gone." He said tightly.

Panic and worry set into my heart. Surely Sam couldn't have gone too far. I mean maybe he just went to get breakfast. I told Dean as much, but even I didn't believe myself.

Dean shook his head as he hung up after he got Sam's voicemail again. He grabbed his duffel and began shoving things into it. I flung the covers back and pulled on some clean clothes.

We were on the road again within ten minutes. While I called Bobby, Dean called Ellen. Neither one had heard or seen from Sam. Dean ran his hands distractedly through his hair. I bit my lip.

We searched everywhere. We took turns driving, sleeping, and looking for signs of where Sam could've gone. It wasn't until a week later though that we got any leads.

Dean had parked under an overpass to call Ellen again. I was trying to reach Bobby when Dean suddenly jumped in the car again. I looked up startled.

"Sam called." Was all he said.

I could have fainted with relief.

When we pulled in to the hotel parkind lot we jumped out and hurried inside and down the hall to the room where he was. "Sam, it's me. Sam!" Dean said knocking on the door. When there was no answer he turned the knob on the door and it opened. Sam must've been pretty out of it if he didn't even lock the door.

"Sam? Hey." Dean said as we cautiously came into the room.

"Hey, Dean. Kenzie." Sam said numbly. He was sitting on the bed staring at his hands. I gasped. They were covered in blood.

Dean quickly kneeled at his side. "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off."

Dean touched Sam's blood-soaked shirt looking for a wound. "Oh my God." He muttered.

"I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?" I asked, horrified.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know."

I swallowed hard.

"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head, clueless. He looked up. "Dean. I don't remember anything."

Dean nodded, but I could see the fear in his eyes. I glanced back at Sam, and screamed.

His face was hideous. I couldn't even begin to describe it. His eyes seemed black. I scrambled backwards drawing my knife.

Sam's face seemed to return to normal in the bat of an eyelash. My breath was heavy. Both Dean and Sam's faces were drawn in concern.

"MacK, what's wrong?" Dean asked.

I shook my head and swallowed hard. "Nothing." I closed my eyes tightly and then opened them again. Sam's face stayed the same. "I'm fine. Just jittery is all. I'm fine."

Both Dean and Sam gave me disbelieving looks. I quickly continued. "How about I go get some food or something and I'll find out what name this room's under."

Before I could even finish my sentence I was out the door not even stopping for the car keys.

On the street I walked as fast as my legs would carry me. A loud piercing noise was going off inside my head and I clamped my hands to my ears to make it stop. Luckily no one was nearby and nobody saw me.

Hundreds of voices rolled around in my head. They were speaking some strange language but I could understand it. Something about demon attacks, something not being time yet, something about vessels, Michael, Lucifer, and something about me. I definitely heard my name in the snatches I caught.

Then as soon as they started, they stopped. I looked around; breathing heavy, but still no one was nearby.

I was shaky for the rest of the day as we searched for clues as to what Sam had been up to. And every clue just made me shakier. The bloody knife, the smoking, the drinking. And then the house with the dead hunter. When I saw the body more of the whispers started going off in my head and it took everything I had to hide the truth from Sam and Dean.

I stared out the window of the house watching for anyone who might show up. A loud crash surprised me and I whipped around to find a frightened and upset Sam and a pissed off Dean.

"Wipe your prints, then we go." He said.

I stared. Dean looked between me and Sam. "Come on, the both of you. What's wrong? Pick your jaw off the floor, MacK. Let's go."

Me and Sam shared a look.

The car ride back to the motel was silent until Dean turned the radio up and Sam immediately reached up and turned it off. Dean looked over at him, agitated.

"Sam, I mean it. Come on dude. Look alive." Dean glanced back at me. "And what's your problem?"

I turned to face the window not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. Dean shook his head and gassed the pedal. "I swear," He muttered. "If it isn't one of you chicks brooding, it's the other. Or both." He added giving me a glare in the rearview mirror.

"You know what, Dean? Shut your piehole, and leave me and Sam alone!" I snapped.

Dean near wrecked. I hardly ever raised my voice to him. But he surprisingly didn't say anything. He just gave me an incredulous look and shook his head.

Once back at the hotel room I flopped down on the bed wanting nothing more than to sleep this week of nightmares off.

"All right, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror. Look, I know this is bad, okay? You've gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!" I heard Dean say. I glanced at them both.

"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did." Sam protested.

"Maybe." Dean said and Sam scoffed. "Okay? Hey, we don't know... shapeshifter!"

"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion."

"Yeah, but it wasn't you! All right? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."

"Dean's right, Sam. It couldn't have been you." I tried.

"Well, I think it was." Sam sat down on the bed at my feet. "I think maybe more than you know."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly. After the hallucinations from earlier and now this. I was starting to get scared. I sat up.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

"For the last few weeks I've been having... I've been having these feelings."

"What feelings?" Dean and me asked in unison.

"Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day it gets worse."

Ok. Sam has finally succeeded in scaring me.

"You never told me this." Dean said. I could tell he was more than annoyed and scared.

"I didn't want to scare you." Sam tried.

"Well, bang-up job on that." Dean said and I scoffed in agreement.

"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we all know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."

"No one can control you but you."

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming..." Sam trailed off.

"What?" Dean asked and I scooted closer so that I was sitting next to Sam.

"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I gotta face up to who I am."

"I didn't mean this!" Dean burst out.

"Sam, that's not-" I started but he cut me off.

"But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too, that's why he told you, if it ever came to this . . ." Sam trailed off again letting the ending of his sentence hang in the air. We all knew what he meant.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean said simply. The fear still tinged his eyes although I doubt anyone else would have seen it besides me or Sam.

"Dean, you promised him. You promised me."

"Sam." I tried again.

"You promised too, MacKenzie."

I flinched at my full name.

"No." Dean interrupted. "Listen to me. We're going to figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's got to be a way, right?"

"Yeah, there is." Sam said simply as he reached into his duffel. He pulled out a handgun and thrust it at Dean. Both mine and Dean's face were masked with disbelieving expressions. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt either of you."

"Sam." I whispered. I looked at Dean. "Dean, please don't do this." I jumped up and Dean looked at me hurt showing clearly in his eyes.

"You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it." Dean said reassuringly.

Sam shook his head and I caught the glisten of tears in his eyes. "No. I can't. Not forever. Here, you gotta do it." Sam took Dean's hand and shoved the gun into it.

I looked at Dean. I knew him. He wouldn't do this. He couldn't do this.

"Dean." I said. When he didn't snap out of his stupor I turned to Sam. "Sammy, don't make him do this. You can't ask this of either of us." I whispered, feeling tears choking me as well.

Finally Dean broke the silence. "You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe. Both of you."

Sam nodded. "I know."

I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. This couldn't be happening. Not to my brother.

"I can't. I'd rather die." Dean choked out. He threw the gun on the bed and made his way past Sam.

"No. You'll live." Sam picked up the gun. I jumped to stop whatever it was he was going to do but before I could he said, "You'll live to regret this." He whipped the gun across Dean's face.

Dean fell to the floor gracelessly. I stared in sheer horror at my eldest brother on the floor. I then looked up to the smirking figure of my older brother. I backed up slowly drawing my knife.

"You're not Sam." I said.

The not Sam smirked. "How would you know?" His face jerked to the side and I caught the hideous hallucination again. Then Sam's face returned to normal with a smirk curling his lip.

"Demon." I said backing up further.

Sam grinned. "Points for the angel bitch. Now it's your turn, sweetheart." He advanced on me.

I steadied myself on my feet. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus" Before I could say another word Sam lunged at me. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.

He grinned wickedly. "How's your pathetic angel going to save you this time, huh?"

I struggled to no avail and snarled at him.

"We're gonna kill you just like your dear old dad." I struggled harder at those words.

"Like you did to my mother, too!" I spat angrily.

For a moment a flash of confusion washed over Sam's face. Then it was quickly replaced with a smirk. "Actually sweetheart. That wasn't me. Wasn't a demon at all. If you ever see him again, why don't you ask your little angel buddy, huh? I'm sure he'll be _thrilled_ to tell you what really happened to your mom."

I shoved and heaved against the demon's will. "But maybe I'll take you again instead, you know once I'm done with your brothers. It'll be just like old times. Me and you together again, hmm. What do ya say?"

"Go to hell."

Sam smirked. "Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt. But you know compared to what the angels got planned for you, you'll probably wish you'd have taken my offer."

I glared and spat into Sam's face. He wrinkled his nose and wiped off the spit with back of his hand. He gave me a hard look and then drew back his fist and punched me. I fell backwards, unconscious.

Something was pounding loudly. I thought it was my head but when I opened my eyes and flexed my sore jaw I realized someone was beating on the door.

A groan came from beside me. I heard the door being opened to the room.

"Hey. It's past your checkout." I looked up to see the hotel manager standing in the doorway.

"What?" Me and Dean asked, getting up slowly. Dean glanced at me doing a once over. I knew I had to have a nice size bruise on the side of my face. He had one too.

"It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room." The manager insisted.

Dean stumbled to the door and looked out. He looked back at the manager. "Yeah, I'll bet they do. What time is it?"

"Twelve-thirty."

"That guy who was with us, have you seen him?" Dean asked.

I rubbed the side of my jaw and looked around the room. Sam's duffel was missing along with a few of the weapons. Guns mostly.

"Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm going to have to charge you extra."

"Oh, son of a…" I heard Dean mutter. He swayed slightly and leaned up against the doorway.

"It's just policy, sir."

"I need to use your computer." I said coming up behind Dean.

The manager gave me a funny look. "Now, why would I let you use my computer?"

I looked to Dean who pulled out his wallet and a wad of cash. The manager stared at the cash and then looked back to Dean. He grabbed the money and smiled. "Right this way."

"Go on, I'll grab our stuff." I told Dean.

I grabbed up the duffels and hurried to the lobby pushing past the couple in the hall.

As I entered the lobby area I heard Dean on the phone. "Right. Yeah, boys will be boys. But see, Sammy is a diabetic, and uh, if he doesn't get his insulin, I just, I have to find him. Please, I'm begging you. Yeah, no, no, no, I'm on the web site right now, I just need to activate the GDS in his cell phone."

I raised my eyebrows wondering what story he'd spun off this time.

Dean type din something on the computer and the glanced at me. I gave him a questioning look. "Yeah, right there. Duluth, Minnesota. Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help."

Dean quickly hung up and grabbed his duffel from me. "Let's go. I'll grab a car."

"Sam's possessed." I told Dean as we hurried out to the parking lot.

"Yeah, I figured." Dean said only stopping long enough to hot wire a car.

We drove fast not stopping for any reason. As we drove I kept thinking about what the demon had said to me. How I should ask Cass about what happened to my mother.

The demon could have been lying of course just to throw me off, but I remembered something Dad had wrote in his journal. Something about how my mom had looked after she died.

"Dean." I ventured. "Can I see Dad's journal?"

Dean glanced at me. "Yeah, sure." He pulled it out of his inner jacket pocket.

I took it from him and quickly began flipping through the pages. Finally I found the one I was looking for.

It read:

_Jan. 8th Thursday, 1987 _

_Katie called. I have a daughter._

_Jan. 11th, Sunday, 1987 _

_Katie's sister called me. Katie was killed by a demon upon entering her house after returning from the hospital. I had to take the boys with me. Katie's eyes were burned out. Possibility it was the thing that killed be a no EMF, and no sulfur. I'll have to research this further._

No sulfur, no EMF, and her eyes were burned out. That didn't sound like a demon, or anything I'd ever heard of. But the angels wouldn't have killed my mother surely. I mean, they're angels for goodness sakes.

I still couldn't convince myself by the time we'd made it to Duluth. Dean had gone over the plan with me on the way and now we both hurried out of the car and pulled our guns. Dean gestured for me to take the rear and I looked around pointing my gun as I went. Dean kicked the door in.

"Sam!" Dean yelled and I followed him in not lowering my gun.

Sam had the knife to a girl's throat. She was tied to a post and gagged. It took me a moment to place her but when I did my eyes widened. It was Jo.

"I begged you to stop me, Dean." Sam said in a desperate panic.

"Put the knife down, damnit." Dean said.

I masked my face into one of panic and worry.

"I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You've be doing me a favor! Shoot me." Sam spread his arms. "Shoot me!" He cried.

"No, Sammy, come on." Dean said miserably. He lowered his gun and I caught the glint of silver as he pulled out the flask of holy water. I lowered my gun.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?"

I internally blocked my ears. I could barely stand to hear these words come out of Sam's mouth even if they weren't Sam's real words.

Dean turned suddenly splashing the holy water on Sam. The water smokes and hisses when it hits his skin and he turns his head away in pain.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" Dean yelled.

Sam jerked his head back and I caught the flash of the demon's true face again. I glanced at Dean to see if he'd seen this but he gave no indication of it. Sam's eyes were pitch black and snarl curled his lip. Dean threw more holy water at him and Sam growled. He turned and ran, bursting through the window on the other side of the room.

Dean cut Jo free while I hurried over to the window pointing my gun down at the street below. There was no sign of Sam and I sighed in frustration and worry. Dean came up behind me.

"He was possessed?" Jo cried from behind us. Dean and I both turned and gave her a look as though it should have been obvious. Then Dean jumped through the window with me close behind.

I heard Jo calling mine and Dean's names but we didn't have time to chat.

A shot was fired behind me and I turned in time to see a body fall over the dock and land with a splash into the water.

"No!" I screamed running toward the figure that I knew had to be either Dean or Sam.

"Oh, yes." A voice said behind me. I turned in time to see the shadowy figure pull the trigger on a gun. Time seemed to slow down as I saw the bullet flying toward my face. Then it stopped in midair.

Sam's face twisted into one of fear. Then he turned and ran.

I blanked. What had just happened? Quite suddenly I collapsed. I was panting hard and my head hurt something awful. I laid my head down on the ground and clenched my teeth in pain.

I swallowed hard, the coppery taste of blood in my mouth. After a moment I got shakily to my feet. I took a deep breath and massaged my temple.

Suddenly my senses came back to me and I took another deep, shaky breath. I hurried to the water's edge but I didn't get another step before unconsciousness overtook me.

"MacK! MacK! Wake up already!"

I opened my eyes a slit and found Jo watching me with concern. A drenched Dean was kneeling on the other side of me holding a hand over his shoulder.

"You alright? What's wrong?" He asked, wincing when he shifted.

I nodded. "I'm fine." With Jo's help I shakily got back to my feet. "Did Sam shoot you?" I asked as me and Jo both looped an arm around Dean's shoulders, mindful of the bleeding bullet wound. He didn't protest much as we helped him back to the bar, proving he was in more pain than he let on.

While Jo was patching him up I laid down on the pool table and held an ice pack to my aching head. I almost smiled at the thought of the first time we'd met Ash. He'd been lying on the pool table at the Roadhouse.

I tuned out of Jo and Dean's conversation mostly, just trying to get the insistent throbbing to stop in my head. When it had mostly gone away I lifted up the ice pack and glanced over at my brother and Jo.

I thought of Jo as a sister and I think Sam probably felt the same way. But Dean? Well, I can't really say. But his love for her was definitely deeper than mine or Sam's.

"All right, are we done?" Dean asked.

Jo gave him a look. "Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." She finished laying the gauze over his wound and asked, "So, how did you know? That he was possessed?"

Dean glanced at me. "Uh, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him."

I narrowed my eyes wondering why he wasn't telling the truth. Then again I couldn't say much about not telling the truth. I wasn't telling my brothers about Cass or about seeing the demon's true face. Or the weird bullet incident. It still bothered me why that demon had run. It took a lot to scare a demon. And if a demon was running from something it meant that I needed to be running from it too.

"Hey, Dean." Jo asked.

"Yeah?"

"I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth too?" She looked at him and I wondered what the demon had told her to make her ask such a question.

"Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head. Why do you ask?"

" 't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?"

Dean sighed. "Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so…closest one I know lives in South Dakota."

I snapped my head up. Bobby. I hadn't even thought about where Sam might be going next.

"Okay good, I'm done. Let's go." Jo stood up.

"Yeah. You're not coming." Dean said promptly.

"The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now. Kenzie hunts. And she's younger than me."

I sat up and widened my eyes at suddenly finding myself a part of their ensuing argument.

"She's been doing this her entire life." Dean protested and Jo scoffed slightly. "I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is our fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be."

Dean turned to leave signaling to me. I stood slowly and made my way over to him.

"Wait." Jo said and we turned. "Here," She handed Dean a bottle of pain killers. "Take these; they'll help with the pain."

"Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?" Dean said.

I gave a wry smile, and Dean and I quickly made our way out to the car.

We burst into Bobby's house scared of what we were going to find once we got there.

Blood, bits of Bobby strewn over the house, maybe.

But not a trussed up Sam and a glaring Bobby.

"Bout time you two idjits got here." He said.

"Bobby." Dean said relief showing clearly on his face. "You're ok."

Bobby gave us a look. "Of course I'm ok. You think I can't tell who's a demon and who ain't."

I gave a relived smile. But when I looked around Bobby my smile faded to a glare.

Sam was tied to a chair under the same Key of Solomon that I had once been. His head hung against his chest, his hair covering his face. It still brought back bad memories to me and I fought off a shudder.

"Well, how about we go give Sammy a wake-up call shall we?" I asked.

"Hey." Dean slapped Sam's face.

Sam looked up at the ceiling and the trap. Then he looked back at Dean and me. "Dean, back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean said, his eyes cold.

"Oh, careful, 't want to bruise this fine packaging."

"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much." Dean turned and I handed him the bucket of holy water. "You, on the other hand," Dean threw the water on him and smoke rose off Sam's body as his face contorted in pain and he screamed. "Feel like talking now?"

The demon grimaced. "Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue."

I regarded the demon Sam coldly, my arms crossed over my chest. "No, you won't be in him long enough." I said.

"Bobby." Dean said.

Bobby began reading the exorcism as Dean continued to circle the demon Sam. "See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting Sam. You understand me? Because I'm gonna kill every one of you first."

Sam began to struggle at first but then he stopped. He threw back his head and laughed. A harsh and evil sound. It took us all aback and Bobby stopped reading.

"You really think that's what this is about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan." Sam said.

I gave him a suspicious look, and Bobby continued reading. Nothing happened.

"Oops. Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." Sam smiled and then looked down. He chanted something in Latin and the flames rose in the fireplace suddenly. The room began to shake and I leaned against the wall for support.

"This isn't going like I pictured! What's going on, Bobby?" Dean yelled over the noise and the sound of Sam chanting.

Then suddenly I noticed it. The burned mark on Sam's arm. Bobby must've seen it too because he said, "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"

"What the hell do we do?" I shouted.

"I don't know!"

Sam threw back his head and screamed. The walls and ceiling started to crack, breaking the protective circle. Sam looked back down, his solid black. I swallowed fearfully.

"There. That's better."

He jerked his head and Bobby went flying, slamming into the wall. Then he jerked it to the other side and both me and Dean slammed back against the other wall. I heard the flask of holy water fall from Dean's grip as he landed in a clutter of books. I forced myself to stay awake despite the insistent throbbing in head.

Sam ripped free of his bonds. "You know when people want to describe the worse possible thing? They say it's like hell." He said as he made his way over to where Dean and I sat groaning. I tried to pull my aching body to my feet ignoring the wave of nausea that washed over me. Sam kneeled in front of Dean and threw a hand out at me forcing me back up against the wall. I heard him throw a punch to Dean. "You know there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um," Sam threw another punch to Dean. "Well, it's like hell. Even for demons."Another punch. I looked over and saw blood trickle down Dean's nose."It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear;" Sam hit Dean again and then he grabbed Dean's head. "And you sent me back there."

Dean sneered. "Meg."

I swallowed.

"No. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam." Sam hit Dean again, then he began digging his thumb into Dean's bullet wound. Dean hissed in pain.

"Dean." I croaked.

Dean spared me a quick pain-filled glance. Then he turned back as Sam continued, "By the way. I saw your Dad there - he says "howdy"." He shoved his thumb in harder to Dean's shoulder the latter of whom tried to pull away, groaning in pain. "All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect."

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. _Bobby_, some part of me thought. The rest of me was too being in pain.

"But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you'll do to yourself, is it?" Sam/Meg continued. "I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, you didn't save your sister yourself, and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

Bobby was a blur of flannel as Sam reared up to hit Dean again. He lashed a hot iron poker across the mark on Sam's arm crossing it out. The Sam demon screamed once in pain, and then again as black smoke rose out and disappeared up the chimney.

Sam fell back, confused. He grabbed his arm and grimaced. Dean and I pulled our aching bodies up.

"Sammy?" Me and Dean asked.

"Did I miss anything?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes, groaning. Dean reared back and right hooked Sam's cheek before collapsing to the ground.

Sam looked at me and Bobby bewildered, but I just shook my head and lay back with a sigh.

We finally got Dean back conscious and Sam and Bobby helped him to a chair. They tried to help me up too but I shook my head slightly. "I'm good right here on the floor." I told them, still a bit delirious.

Bobby brought us all ice packs which I gratefully put on the growing lump on the back of my head.

I heard my brothers talking but I wasn't listening to their conversation. There was a constant ringing in my ears that I was sure wasn't from where I'd been slung around.

Only one word seemed to be rolling around in my groggy mind though I had no idea why.

_Castiel. _

I closed the door to the hotel room quietly. I glanced around at the dark parking lot and then made my way toward the back of the hotel.

I let out a puff of air and looked up. I started bouncing on the balls of my feet as I said, "Castiel, I want a word with you."

I waited for a few minutes and then sighed. He must've been busy. That thought led me to the question, what do angels when they're not frustrating the crap out of me?

I was about to turn and go back to the hotel when a voice behind me said, "Yes."

I spun around quickly. Cass however, didn't quiet look like Cass.

His hair was dark, and his eyes a deep celestial blue, same as usual. But he looked younger, more my age. Velvety black wings spread out from his back. He was dressed in a simple white robe and sandals. A golden cord was being used for a belt. A sort of glowy aura was being emitted from him.

I opened my mouth and said, "Cass, what the hell? I could see that demon's face! It, it was hideous."

Cass gave me a somewhat sympathetic look. "Yes."

"And, you. I can see your true form and hear your real voice. I thought stuff like that burned your eyes out and busted your eardrums."

Cass glanced down. "Yes."

"And the voices I hear in my head? They keep speaking in some weird language, but I can understand them. Are those, are those angels?"

Cass glanced at me. "Yes. They're speaking in Enochian."

"That's all you have to say to me?"

"Yes."

I huffed in irritation. "_Why?_"

Cass looked at me as though it should have been obvious. (Which was starting to get _quite_ annoying by the way.) "You agreed be a willing vessel."

"But—"

Castiel cut me off. "I am needed back in heaven immediately. Don't call for me unless it's a dire emergency."

I growled in frustration and kicked the nearest beer can at a dumpster. It gave off a loud clanging noise and I saw something dark and furry run from behind the trash bin.

I took a breath, trying hard not to fling every ghastly obscenity I could come up with at the angel.

"Son of a bitch." I muttered as I walked huffily back toward the hotel room.

He hadn't even stayed long enough for me to question him about my mother. I was going to get some answers from someone, somehow. Even if I had to climb the stairway to heaven, catch that winged monkey myself and shake some information out of him.


	11. All Hell Breaks Loose Part One

"I'm hungry." Dean said suddenly.

I looked up over the top of my book at Dean in the front seat. "Dean, sweetheart, we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah, but there's a burger joint just up ahead." Sam glanced back at me, a slightly amused look on his face.

My brows shot up but I shrugged. "Fine."Then, "Not it!"

"Not it!" Dean yelled barely a second behind me.

Sam opened his mouth and then shut it again and huffed. "Fine." He sighed.

Dean parked up front and Sam got ready to jump out into the pouring rain. "Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time, huh?" Dean said with a grin.

I groaned and Sam said, annoyed, "Dude, we're the ones who are gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions."

Dean grinned back and Sam sighed, getting out of the car. "Hey, see if they've got any pie." Dean exclaimed. Sam glared and slammed the door shut. "Bring me some pie! I love me some pie."

I rolled my eyes and reached up front to turn up the radio. A second later the radio started to become static filled. Dean started fiddling with it, but the radio cut off completely.

I glanced up at the restaurant. And suddenly my senses were on high alert. I slapped Dean's arm and he looked up too with a puzzled expression. But that quickly turned to panic as we both realized that there was no one inside the diner.

Both me and Dean jumped out of the car, and my hand crept backwards towards my gun as we banged in through the door. A man was lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood.

"Sam?" Dean asked drawing his gun. I did the same.

I hurried around behind the counter to find the waitresses and cook also dead. "They're all dead." I said as Dean came up behind me. "Throats slit."

"But no Sam." I heard the escalating worry in Dean's voice though I knew he was trying to be strong for my sake.

Dean opened the back door and looked out, but the surroundings were empty with no signs whatsoever of life.

"Sam?" Dean called again, but there was no response.

"Dean." I pointed at the door handle where there was a light coating of a whitish yellow powder.

"Sulfur." Dean and I said simultaneously.

Dean took off back through the front door and back out toward the car screaming Sam's name. I stood frozen. Sam had been taken again. Possibly even possessed again.

I finally swallowed, wetting my dry throat. I forced myself to look around the diner for more clues, but I found none that indicated where Sam might be. Dean finally came back, dripping water onto the floor. The look of utter despair in his eyes was almost too much for me to take and I bit my lip.

"You call Bobby. I'll make the call to 911." I stated.

Dean nodded shakily and ran a hand through his wet hair before taking out his phone to call Bobby. I dialed 911 and reported the incident. When she asked me my name though I said, "Uh, Barbara Eden."

Dean gave me a funny look, but shook his head and went back to his conversation with Bobby.

I started wiping down our prints and then once Dean hung up we hightailed it out of there before the authorities arrived.

"What did Bobby say?" I asked once we were safely back on the road.

"Said he'd meet up with us. Call Ash and get him to do whatever it is he does to find Sam."

"On it." I said already dialing the number.

"This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month." Bobby said gesturing to the empty map spread out over the hood.

I gave him an incredulous look as Dean said, "Are you joking? There's nothing here."

"Exactly."

"Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing."

"That's what I'm telling you; there's nothing. It's completely quiet."

"Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?"

I bit my lip and jumped slightly when my phone rang. I dug it out of my back pocket and flipped it open after seeing Ash's name on the screen.

"Ash, what do you got?" I asked desperately. Dean and Bobby both looked at me expectantly.

"Okay, listen, it's a big negatory on Sam." Ash said and I bit back a distressed whine.

"Oh, come on, man! You've gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here." I looked around at the insignificant fields and farms surrounding us.

"Listen, MacK, I did find something."

My ears perked up at those words. "Well, what?"

"I can't talk over this line, MacK." A bit of worry had gone into Ash's voice.

"Come on, Ash, we don't have time for this!" I cried.

"Make time, okay? Because this-" Ash paused and I heard him speaking to someone else. Then he said hurriedly, "Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, this is...it's huge. So get here. Now." Ash hung up.

I flipped my phone down and looked at the expectant Dean and Bobby. "I guess we're going to the Roadhouse."

Bobby, Dean, and I jumped into the Impala and Dean we shot off.

I anxiously prayed that Sam was alright. If The Demon had got him we didn't stand a chance in hell at getting him back.

It was late morning by the time we got to the Roadhouse. But I knew there was something wrong from the minute I saw the smoke in the sky. When we turned the corner, I saw the entire Roadhouse had burnt down.

I gasped and practically jumped out of the car before Dean had even stopped the car. I ran up to the wreckage as I heard the doors slam behind me and Dean let out a breathy, "What the hell?"

I sifted through some the rubble looking for anything I could find.

"Oh, my God." Bobby breathed.

"You see Ellen?" Dean asked.

I shook my head, and Bobby said, "No. No Ash, either."

I continued sifting through the rubble until the gleam of melted metal caught my eye. "Dean." I said softly.

He turned and bent down beside me. He picked up the familiar watch which in turn was attached to a burnt arm.

"Oh, Ash, damn it!" Dean exclaimed. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"What are we going to do now?" I couldn't keep the escalating anxiety out of my voice.

Dean shook his head sadly. "I don't know. Dammit!" He cursed again.

Bobby took a deep breath. " This is..." He trailed off.

"What the hell did Ash know? We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?" Dean, Bobby, and I started making our way back towards the Impala seeing as how there was obviously no sign of life anywhere nearby.

"We'll find him." Bobby said reassuringly, but he didn't sound very convinced.

Suddenly Dean clutched his head in pain. He doubled over. I rushed to his side as Bobby shouted his name. A moment later though he straightened, panting.

"What the hell?" I breathed, clutching his jacket sleeve tightly in case he happened to fall over.

"What was that?" Bobby asked. I looked at Dean expectantly, the worry showing clearly in my eyes.

"I don't know. A headache?" Dean said, still panting.

I raised an eyebrow. "You get headaches like that a lot?" Bobby asked.

"No. Must be the stress." Dean chuckled wryly. "I could have sworn I saw something."

"What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?"

"What? No!" Dean protested.

"I'm just saying."

"Come on, I'm not some psychic." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Dean fell against the hood of the Impala clutching his head in pain.

"Dean!" I shouted grabbing hold of his arm. Bobby ran up beside me.

"Dean? Dean! Are you with me?"

Dean sat up and blinked several times. "Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him, Bobby."

"What?" I breathed.

"It was a vision."

_I_ nearly fell over this time. I tried not to let my shock show on face but I know I flinched. Enochian words were whispered through my brain again.

Dean gave me a funny look but he didn't comment. "Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels."

"What else did you see?" Bobby questioned.

"Uh... there was a bell."

"What kind of bell?"

"Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know."

I forced the voices to the back of my mind and tried to think. "Engraving?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, exactly."

Realization washed over Bobby's face. "I know where Sam is."

Bobby jumped into the Impala. "I'll drive. Dean get some rest, if we hurry we can be there sometime tonight."

Both Dean and I stared for a moment. Bobby looked at us. "Get in the car, yaidjits."

Dean and I sprang into action, Dean taking the passenger seat and me jumping in the back.

Though neither me nor Dean were likely to get any rest knowing that we might have to face down yellow-eyes tonight.

We parked the Impala just outside of the woods. There wasn't a road anywhere in sight. Not good. If we had to go on foot it would be hard to have a quick getaway.

"Looks like the rest of the way's on foot." Bobby said.

We jumped out and grabbed our weapons as quick as possible. "Let's go." Dean said, slamming the trunk shut.

A cold sensation wound its' way into the pit of my stomach as we crashed through the woods.

As we came into a clearing I caught the outline of buildings, all wooden and old. The windows were either boarded up or broken. I caught the outline of a lone figure standing over the body of another. For a moment the cold feeling intensified until I realized that the figure standing was Sam.

Dean must have realized this too because he shouted out, "Sam!"

Sam turned a look of relief flooding his features as it does ours. "Dean! Kenzie!"

All of a sudden I catch a movement behind Sam. "Sam, look out!" I screamed.

The man behind Sam stabbed a knife into Sam's back and twisted it. When he drew his arm back I caught the glint of blood on the knife. "No!" Dean cried as all three of us broke into a run. The man took off into the night. Sam arched backwards for a moment his lips slightly parted in surprise and then he fell towards the ground.

Dean fell to his knees in front of Sam, grabbing him and holding him up. I fell to my knees atSam's side, a roar in my ears. I saw Dean's mouth moving as he tried to keep Sam conscious, and some part of me heard him while the other was too busy being in shock.

"Whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Come here. Let me look at you." Dean shifted Sam forward so that Sam's head rested on his shoulder. Dean put his palm over the gaping blood soaked wound and looked at his dripping hand in shock and fear. "Hey, look at me." He grabbed Sam's dropping head. "It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You're gonna be good as new. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sammy!"

I heard Dean speaking and I felt the cold tears slip down my cheeks and hover over my gaping mouth. _No_, some part of me thought. Sam couldn't die. He couldn't. Not now. _Oh God, please not now._

Sam's eyes slid shut and he fell forward onto Dean's shoulder. "No. No, no, no, no. Oh, God." Dean murmured as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Sammy." I said, my voice raspy. "No." A sob choked me, and I fell forward with my head in my hands.

"Sam!" Dean cried out in anguish.

I heard Bobby come running back. "I couldn't get him in time. He's gone." He said as he came up.

I looked up at him and Bobby stared at Sam's limp form. "No." He breathed.

It was a while before Bobby was finally able to pull me to my feet. I leaned into his chest remembering all the times Dad had left me with Bobby as a kid.

_Sam's dead_, kept playing over and over again in my head like a broken record.

I don't know how but somehow I found myself inside of one of the building lying on an old mattress to cry myself to sleep.


	12. All Heaven and Hell Breaks Loose

"Dean." I said groggily having woke up at the sound of Bobby and Dean's arguing. I rubbed my sleepy eyes. "What is it?"

The door shut as Bobby left and Dean turned to look at me with teary eyes. I hated seeing my brothers cry. Especially Dean. He was the strong chain that held this family together. The solid rock that me and Sam could cling to in time of need. The one who always wiped away the tears. The comforter. The protector.

Now, he seemed broken, and fragile. I felt tears well up again in my eyes as I watched him. I wanted to run into his arms like I had when I was a little girl and have him soothe away my tears. But now neither of us could be the strong one.

"Dean?" My voice broke and he enveloped me in a hug. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and buried my wet face in his shoulder. "What are we going to do?"

He laid his cheek down on top of my head, combing through my tangled hair. I felt the tears soaking into my scalp, but I said nothing. After a long moment we finally let go of one another.

I wiped at my face and so did Dean. I looked at him and could almost see the gears turning in his head. A determined look glinted in his eye. He was plotting.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air." I mumbled after a moment.

I sniffed as I walked down the street of the ghost town, my hands in my pockets. Finally I stopped and looked up, a realization dawning on me.

I wiped at the tears that had found themselves in my eyes once again. I had told myself I wouldn't do this. I didn't need that bastard's help every time something went wrong. But I found myself looking up and taking a shaky breath.

"Cass, if you're listening, and you're not too busy, will," I paused and gathered the courage to go on. "Will you please help me? I don't know what to do. Please Cass, I'm begging you. Please. " I sobbed.

There was a rustling sound behind me and I turned. "You needed me?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, Cass." I breathed a sigh of relief. "You don't know what I've been through, I mean, well you probably do, but, I need your help. You gotta do something. Sam's dead, please you've got to help. A-And I think Dean's planning on doing something stupid, and, I can't lose them both."

Cass gave me a sad look. "I'm sorry about your brother. I can't do anything for him. I have orders to follow."

I brushed away some more tears. "Hang your bloody orders."

But I didn't get a reply because Cass was gone. I gaped. "Cass! Cass, come back! You bastard, come back!" I sobbed. "Castiel!"

I ran back toward the house we were staking out in just as Dean slammed the door shut.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He didn't even turn but kept going. "I'll be back."

I woke a second time having finally caught up on missed sleep to the sound of low voices talking. Two voices. Both disturbingly familiar and some part at the back of my brain identified them.

"Sam." I said jumping up. It was a fool's hope I told myself. _Sam's dead._ I screamed at myself, but I still ran into the room and flung myself onto the sandy-haired figure sitting at the table.

"Ow." Sam said, flinching, but returning my hug. "Jeez, did you two miss me or something."

Dean's eyes widened behind Sam's head and he shook his head vigorously. It took but a few moments to draw the conclusion. I said nothing but I know my eyes flashed in disapproval and then fear. _How long had they given Dean?_ I thought as I helped myself to the cold pizza.

"So what happened exactly?" I asked.

Sam took a breath and launched into a full blown explanation of his kidnapping by Yellow Eyes and Ava's betrayal.

"And that's when you guys showed up." Sam finished as I was finishing off my second soda.

"That's awful. Poor Andy." Dean said taking another sip of his beer.

"The demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive."

"He told you that?" I asked, surprised.

"Yep." Sam scoffed. "He appeared in a dream."

"He tell you anything else?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "No. No. That was it. Nothing else. You know, what I don't get, Dean, is if the demon only wanted one of us, then how did Jake and I both get away?"

"Well, I mean, they left you for dead. I'm sure they thought it was over." Dean took a bite of pizza and turned away speaking around the food. "So now that Yellow Eyes has Jake, what's he gonna do with him?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, we got to stop him." Sam said urgently.

"Well, hold on. You need to get your rest. We got time."

"No, we don't."

"Sam, oceans aren't boiling, okay? Frogs aren't raining from the sky. Let's get you your strength back first."

I pursed my lips and took another bite of my pizza waiting for the point when they pulled me in to pick sides.

Finally Sam asked, "Well did you call the roadhouse? They know anything?"  
"Yeah." Dean looked away again and I swallowed hard.

"Dean...what is it?" Sam asked fearfully.

I looked down and Dean sat down as he finally answered, "The roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen— a lot of other hunters, too."

Sam's mouth was gaping slightly and his eyes were moist as he asked, "Demons?"

"Yeah, we think so." I answered quietly. "We think because Ash found something."

"What did he find?"

"Bobby's working on that right now." Dean answered this time.

"Well, come on then. Bobby's only a few hours away." Sam said impatiently, standing up.

Dean jumped up and grabbed Sam by the shoulders while saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop, Sam, stop! Damn it. You almost died in there. I mean, what would I 've—" Dean paused. "Can't you just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit?"

"I'm sorry. No."

"Sam." I said in a reproving tone. Dean just shook his head.

"Fine." He threw up his hands and started cleaning up our mess.

I muttered, "And Puppy Dog Eyes wins again."

I caught Dean's glare but I merely took another bite of my pizza and gave him an innocent look.

It was a few hours later that we arrived at Bobby's. When he opened the door, I'm pretty darn sure we three weren't the ones he was expecting to find. His wonder showed clearly on his face as he stared at a clueless Sam.

"Hey Bobby." Dean said not meeting Bobby's eyes.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam said as well.

Bobby looked at me and I gave him a "later" look. Then he turned his attention back to Sam. "Sam. It's good to...see you up and around."

"Yeah, thanks for patching me up." Sam made his way into the house, patting Bobby on the shoulder as he went.

"Don't mention it." Bobby still sounded slightly shell shocked.

Dean made his way in behind Sam still not looking at Bobby. "Well Sam's better. And we're back in it now, so...what do you know?"

Bobby stared at Dean and Sam glanced back at us curiously but didn't comment. Eventually we made our way to Bobby's living room/library/office.

"Well, I found something. But I'm not sure what the hell it means."

"What is it?" Sam and I asked simultaneously.

"Demonic omens... like a frickin' tidal wave. Cattle deaths. Lightning storms. They skyrocketed from out of nowhere. Here." Bobby pointed to Wyoming on the map. "All around here, except for one place... Southern Wyoming."

I furrowed my brow in concentration trying to reason this out, but not one reason came to mind. "Wyoming?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. That one area's totally clean – spotless. It's almost as if..." Bobby trailed off.

"What?" Sam asked when he didn't finish.

"The demons are surrounding it."

"But you don't know why?" Dean asked.

"No, and by this point my eyes are swimming. Sam, would you take a look at it? Maybe you could catch something I couldn't."

"Yeah, sure."

"Come on, Dean. I got some more books in the truck. Help me lug 'em in."

"Yeah." Dean said hesitantly.

Bobby turned to me. "Why don't you come too, MacK? We could use all the help we can get."

"Sure." I answered. Dean glanced at me and then down as we followed Bobby outside.

Bobby didn't make it far into the junkyard before he stopped abruptly and turned to face Dean and me. "You stupid ass! What did you do?" Dean looked away but I just glared at him too. "What did you do?" Bobby yelled pushing Dean. When Dean still didn't answer Bobby said, "You made a deal... For Sam, didn't you? How long did they give you?"

"Bobby." Dean said wearily.

"How long?" Bobby shouted again. I waited expectantly.

"One year." Dean answered quietly.

"Damn it, Dean." Bobby cursed. I gasped.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. "Dean." I breathed as I felt the tears well in my eyes.

"Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. That's why I'm gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right?" Dean said defensively.

I gaped at him shaking my head a little. I couldn't have spoken if I wanted to, but Bobby did for me. He grabbed Dean's collar and shouted, "I could throttle you!"

"What, and send me downstairs ahead of schedule?"

I clenched my jaw and blinked my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. Bobby let go of Dean and shook his head asking, "What is it with you Winchesters, huh? You, your dad. You're both just itching to throw yourselves down the pit."

"That's my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby. I'm not even supposed to be here. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? I-I-It's like my life could mean something."

"Mean something?" I asked, aghast.

"What? And it didn't before? Have you got that low of an opinion of yourself? Are you that screwed in the head?" Bobby grabbed Dean again.

"I couldn't let him die, Bobby." Dean choked on his words and I saw tears glimmer in his eyes. "I couldn't. I let Kenzie die before and I couldn't bring her back, but somehow she is. I had to do something for Sam. He's my brother."

"How is your brother gonna feel when he knows you're going to hell? How'd _you_ feel when you knew your dad went for you?"

"You can't tell him. You take a shot at me, whatever you got to do, but please don't tell him." Dean looked between me and Bobby desperately.

A tear rolled down Bobby's cheek and I felt tears rolling down my own face. Bobby grabbed Dean's chin.

Then, there was clank from behind us. I swiped a hand down my face, my hand going to my knife. We hurried behind a car, and then jumped at the intruder. Bobby grabbed them and, "Ellen?" Dean asked. Ellen nodded as she started to cry. "Ellen, oh God." Dean hugged her.

It was a few minutes before we got Ellen calmed down enough to come inside. Sam looked up surprised. "What? Ellen?" He asked.

Bobby helped Ellen over to the table where she sat down wearily. Bobby sat down as well and pulled out a shot glass. He opened a flask and poured something clear into it, and then slid it across the table to Ellen.

Ellen gave him a look. "Bobby, is this really necessary?"

"Just a belt of Holy Water. Shouldn't hurt."

Ellen downed the glass and then slid it back over to Bobby. "Whiskey now, if you don't mind."

"Ellen, what happened? How'd you get out?" Dean asked.

"I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else." She scoffed. "But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." She downed the shot of whiskey Bobby had poured for her and then let out a sharp breath. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice." She sighed. "He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes."

"Sorry, Ellen." Sam said quietly.

Tears gathered in Ellen's eyes. "A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live." She scoffed. "Lucky me."

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe." Bobby said suddenly.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?"

"No." Ellen drew a map out from her pocket, unfolded and set it down on the table. Several black X's and lines crossed on it.

I studied it carefully.

Dean pointed to the lines. "Wyoming. What does that mean?" He voiced all of us unspoken question.

We looked at one another.

I poured over the book I was reading looking for any clue I could find.

"I don't believe it." I heard Bob say behind me. He sat a large book down in front of me on the table and the others crowded around us.

"What? You got something?" Sam asked.

"A lot more than that. Each of these X's." Bobby pointed to the map. "Is an abandoned frontier church— all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt."

"Samuel Colt— the demon-killing, gunmaking Samuel Colt?" Dean asked.

"Yep. And there's more. He built private railway lines," Bobby pointed to the lines. "Connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this." He connected the points to make a star.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is." Dean stated.

"It's a Devil's Trap. A 100-square mile Devil's Trap." Sam said, incredulously.

"That's brilliant. Iron lines demons can't cross." Dean said, eyes bright.

"I've never heard of anything that massive." Ellen stated.

"No one has." Bobby said.

"It's amazing." I whispered.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken?" Dean asked. "I mean, it still works?"

"Definitely." Sam said sounding convinced.

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

"All those omens Bobby found. I mean the demons, they must be circling and they can't get in."

"Yeah, well... they're trying." Bobby said wistfully.

"Why? What's inside?"

"That's what I've been looking for." Dean said as an answer to her question. "And, uh, there's nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle."

"Well what's so important about a cemetery or...what's Colt trying to protect?" Sam asked.

"Well, unless…" Dean trailed off.

"Unless what?" Bobby asked.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out?" I said suddenly. "What if he was trying to keep something in?"

"Now that's a comforting thought." Ellen said.

"Yeah, you think?" Dean asked.

"Could they do it, Bobby? Could they get inside?" Sam asked.

"This thing's so powerful; you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it. No way a full-blood demon gets across."

"No." Sam said. Then, "But I know who could."

I looked at him and my eyes widened. "Crap."

We finally managed to pull our arsenal together and make our way as quick as we could to Wyoming. The sun was just going down when we made it to the graveyard. We had already gotten our plan together on the ride here and now all we could do was hide out and wait.

Me and Dean took our spot behind a large tomb and pulled our guns checking one last time that they were loaded. Sam, Bobby, and Ellen took their places back in the shadows under the trees.

It wasn't long afterwards that we heard the slight creaking of the gate being opened. My heart thudded against my ribcage, but I allowed nothing to show on my face.

A second later I heard Sam say, "Howdy, Jake."

We all five stepped from our hiding places effectively surrounding the man.

The surprise on Jake's face was priceless, but I soon realized what shocked him the most. He stared at Sam as he spoke, "Wait...you were dead. I killed you."

My heart all but stopped and I spared a glance to Dean.

"Yeah? Well next time, finish the job."

"I did!" Jake protested. "I cut clean through your spinal cord, man." Sam glanced at Dean and looked away. "You can't be alive. You can't be."

Bobby cut in, "Okay, just take it real easy there, son."

"And if I don't?"

"Wait and see." Came Sam's steely voice.

"What, you're a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do— kill me?"

"It's a thought."

"You had your chance. You couldn't."

"I won't make that mistake twice."

Jake started laughing suddenly.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" Dean asked.

"Hey ladies, do me a favor. Put those guns to your heads." Jake said pointing to Ellen, then me. My hand was forced to cock the gun and turn it so that it was pointing straight at my head. The same happened to Ellen.

I swallowed shakily and my hand trembled as I tried to pull it away, but I couldn't.

"Let them go." Sam demanded.

"Shoot him." Came Ellen's trembling voice.

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off." Jake said sinisterly. "Everybody, put your guns down." He grinned at me and Ellen. "Except you two, sweethearts." Dean, Sam, and Bobby's guns dropped to the ground. "Okay. Thank you."

Jake turned toward the crypt and inserted the Colt into the slot. My finger pressed on the trigger and I squeezed my eyes shut waiting for the shot that never came. Dean grabbed me quite suddenly as two gunshots went off from both mine and Ellen's gun. My eyes shot open and I saw that Bobby had also grabbed Ellen to stop her. Four more gunshots came in quick succession. Jake arched backwards and fell to the ground as Sam lowered his gun slightly and made his way over to him.

I heard Jake gasp out, "Please…don't. Please."

Three more shots fired in the still night air and he was dead. Blood splattered into Sam's face and he angrily swiped at it. I stood openmouthed along with Bobby, Ellen, and Dean at how heartlessly Sam had killed the guy. Not that I felt too bad for him. He did try to kill me.

I relinquished the grip I didn't realize I'd been holding on Dean's jacket and he moved over to Jake's side. I glanced over at the crypt and apparently so did the others because Bobby whispered, "Oh, no." The engravings had spun on the crypt and then stopped altogether.

"Bobby, what is it?" Ellen asked cautiously.

"It's Hell."

Dean pulled the colt from the crypt and then quickly turned back as Bobby shouted, "Take cover! Now!"

I dove behind a tombstone. As did the others. Just as the gates of Hell slammed open.

"What the hell just happened?" Dean shouted over the noise.

"That's a devil's gate. A damn door to hell." Ellen screamed back. I chanced a look out at the smoky forms making their way out. My heart thudded painfully against my chest and the sick feeling that had been there since Sam died surged tenfold so that I nearly puked. Enochian whispers filled my head so strong that I screamed in pain. This time it wasn't just angels I heard either. Other voices strange and mutilated. I watched in fear at the creatures that were walking free. Maybe to the others they just looked like smoke, but to me they looked like people fresh from a prison camp. Maybe once human, they were twisted and marred beyond belief. Their ghastly faces haunted me for months, even years later.

And one voice, strong yet terrifying kept chanting over and over in my head like a lullaby.

_Soon,_ it whispered. _I have waited this long. But I can wait a little longer. But very, _very_ soon, Sam._

I must've seemed shell shocked because I felt Dean tugging on my arm but he couldn't pull me up. I was frozen. The pain from all the voices assaulting my mind at once, combined with the horrific creatures was taking its toll on me. Dean finally gave up on my huddled form and checked the Colt for bullets.

"If the demon gave this to Jake, then maybe..." He trailed off as thunder crashed. I jumped and gasped. The mental pain was almost beyond my tolerance. The gun flew out of Dean's grasp and I managed to make my shaky form turn enough to see a man striding our way. Shock, flooded each and every one of our faces. My eyes were as wide as saucers and again I felt like I was going to puke at how ghastly the demon's face was. Where his head was two glowing yellow balls of flame burned and blinked like eyeballs. His face continued shifting between that of a grinning man's and the demon's grisly one. It was making me dizzy.

"Boys shouldn't play with Daddy's guns." Yellow-Eyes said. He flicked his wrist and Dean went flying into a tombstone bashing his head and slumping to the ground, stunned.

I hadn't even noticed that Bobby, Sam and Ellen were working fervently to close the door to the crypt until now, but they weren't succeeding so far.

I looked up at Yellow-Eyes too overwhelmed to do anything more than whimper slightly. Later, I was mortified at how frightened I'd seemed. He grinned. "Seems you already built your own hell. Or rather that angel has for you. But don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not scared of him. Or you for that matter." I struggled to move and I looked around, but no one seemed to have heard him. "Oh, don't worry. No one else can even hear us talking right now. I'm speaking that little language you've grown so accustomed to hearing in your head 24/7."

Sam picked that moment to turn, he saw Dean and screamed his name, and then he looked to me and Yellow-Eyes. He flew toward us but Yellow-Eyes simply flung him up against the nearest tree.

"I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you—knew you had it in you." Dean had worked his way to an almost standing position and Yellow-Eyes threw him again, this time up against a post. "Sit a spell. So, Dean...I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape—it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation." He laughed. "Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake, anyhow. Tell me— have you ever heard the expression, 'If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is'?"

"You call that deal good?" Dean asked.

"Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean..." Yellow-Eyes trailed off as he made his way over to Dean. "You saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it?" He chuckled. "How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100%, pure, Sam?"

I glanced over at Sam who was watching us, horrified, but I was unsure whether he could hear what was being said or not. Either way, we were all terrified and screwed. Not a great combination.

I turned back to Yellow-Eyes who was still speaking and laughing. "You of all people should know that what's dead should stay dead. Anyway...thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family."

Yellow-Eyes cocked the gun. My eyes widened and I struggled against my invisible bonds. Suddenly two arms wrapped around Yellow-Eyes from behind. When the two struggling figures turned I saw the man's face.

"Dad." I whispered.

The body that Yellow-Eyes was in suddenly fell away and the smoky form of him returned. The mental conflict inside my brain seemed to have brought itself under control and the voices and images seemed to have diminished enough for now. At least enough for my brain to comprehend.

Dean grabbed for the gun and Dad let go of Yellow-Eyes who smoked into his body once more. He pushed himself to his feet to face Dean and the gun. Dean pulled the trigger and Yellow-Eyes fell back dead.

A small smile of irony twitched at my lips. Bobby and Ellen managed to finally close the gates and they turned, shocked to see Dad standing there. Sam came up beside me and pulled me to my feet, but our eyes never strayed from our father.

Dad smiled and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, regarding him with teary eyes. He looked to us each in turn, eyes lingering on our faces for a moment.

Then he stepped back and disappeared in a flash of bright white light.

I stood stunned for a minute as Dean, Sam, and I all stood around Yellow-Eyes' smoking body.

"Well, check _that_ off the to-do list." Dean laughed.

"You did it." Sam looked at him.

Dean protested. "I didn't do it alone."

"Do you think Dad really..." I trailed off. "Do you think he really climbed outta hell?"

"The door was open. If anyone's stubborn enough to do it...it would be him."

"Where do you think he is now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean answered truthfully.

"I kind of can't believe it, Dean. I mean...our whole lives, everything...has been prepping for this, and now I..." Sam chuckled wryly. "I kind of don't know what to say."

I agreed.

"I do." Dean leaned over Yellow-Eyes' body. "That was for our mom...you son of a bitch."

"And Dad." I whispered.

Sam smiled slightly and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. It felt like a weight had been lifted from all of our shoulders. I near felt like skipping.

Yellow-Eyes was dead. The monster my Dad had been hunting his entire life. Possibly even the creature that had killed my mom, too.

All of a sudden the smug expression fell from Dean's face. He stood up and looked straight at me. A sudden burst of Enochian was ringing in my ears and it took everything I had not to wince from it and the glare Dean was giving me.

"What the hell did he do to you?"

I swallowed. "N-nothing."

Sam stared at me as Dean asked, "Nothing? Nothing?" He was near shouting point now. Both Bobby and Ellen had made their way over to us by now and I found myself shrinking into Sam's side. "You completely freaked out on me back there. You're not like that. You wouldn't scream like a scared little girl to save your life."

I flinched. Had I really sounded that bad?

"Dean." Sam started. I knew he could tell Dean was upsetting me, but he also wanted answers.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean ordered, not taking his eyes off me. "Well?" He asked me.

"It was nothing." I said more firmly. "Yellow-Eyes must've just messed with my head a little, alright?"

Dean watched me carefully for a moment. Then he threw up his hands and said, "Alright, alright. Fine. But you still should've told us."

I nodded vigorously, relieved that Dean hadn't realized I was lying. "Won't happen again."

"Good."

We took care of the bodies and then made our way back out towards the Impala. Dean opened the door, prepared to get in. I was ready to hit the hay, or more like the backseat.

"You know, when Jake saw me...it was like he saw a ghost." Sam started. Dean slammed the door shut to the car. "I mean, hell, you heard him, Dean. He said he killed me."

I stared at Dean with wide eyes.

"Glad he was wrong." Dean remarked leaning against the car.

"I don't think he was, Dean." Dean looked down and Sam paused before speaking again. "What happened? After I was stabbed?"

"I already told you."

"Not everything."

"Sam, we just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?"

Sam asked quietly, "Did I die?"

"Oh, come on."

"Did you sell your soul for me, like Dad did for you?"

I looked between my brothers unsure if I should go to Dean's aid or not. Not that I would have known what to say in his defense.

"Oh, come on! No!" Dean's answer wasn't very convincing.

"Tell me the truth." Sam's eyes didn't leave Dean's face as he pushed himself off the car where he'd been leaning against. "Dean, tell me the truth."

"Sam…" Dean trailed off, chuckling a little.

Sam's voice broke as he spoke. "How long do you get?"

I fought back the sudden onslaught of tears pressing at my eyes. "I got one year," Dean said quietly. Sam nodded and I saw the tears pooling in his eyes. "I got one year."

"You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?"

"Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job."

"And what do you think my job is?"

I looked up at Sam knowing what he meant but Dean obviously didn't. "What?" He asked.

"You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change."

"I'm with you on that, Sammy." I said with a small smile.

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

"Well…Yellow-Eyed Demon might be dead. But a lot more got through that gate." Ellen spoke as she and Bobby came up behind us. We quickly blinked back our tears.

"How many you think?" I asked.

It was Sam who answered. "Hundred. Maybe two hundred. It's an army. He's unleashed an army."

"Hope to hell you three are ready. 'Cause the war has just begun." Bobby said.

"Well then…" Dean said, suddenly grinning. He made his way to the trunk and placed the Colt inside. "We got work to do." He slammed the trunk shut.

It had to of been at least two a.m. when Dean stopped driving. We were on some back road in Utah.

Not of us spoke, but instead we followed out usual routine. Dean grabbed the cooler from the trunk, and then we all three made ourselves comfy on the hood of the Impala.

Dean grabbed three beers from the cooler and popped the lid on one before handing it to Sam. He popped the lid on the other and handed it to me. I stared at him.

"Dean, I'm twenty." I said.

Dean shrugged. "So? I had my first beer when I was sixteen. Besides," He shoved it into my hand. "I think you've earned it. I mean, hell, we just killed Yellow-Eyes. I think we all deserve a treat." He popped the lid on his beer and held it up. "So here's to us and Dad and our kick-ass moves."

I grinned and both me and Sam toasted right along with Dean. I'm not sure how long we stayed there, just studying the stars. It had to of been a couple hours at least because eventually Sam fell asleep leaning back against the windshield. Dean was on his third beer though I'd stopped at one.

I sighed and leaned back against Sam's side as Dean's eyelids dropped.

A rustle to my right though caught me off guard and I sat up and turned quickly.

I scowled. "Cass."

"Hello, MacK." He must've been in an actual vessel because he looked normal and he wasn't all glowy and young and hot anymore.

"You haven't got any right to even speak to me." I practically spat as I slid off the hood of the car and glanced back at my brothers to make sure they weren't awake.

"Don't worry. They won't wake up while I'm here."

"Just tell me why you're here, already." I said, my tone clipped.

Cass gave his standard head tilt. "We needed to talk."

I scoffed. "Well, not sure I'll agree on what it is we need to talk about, but shoot."

"It's time."

"Time for what?" I asked, blinking.

Cass looked at me. And suddenly, it hit me.

We had talked very little actually face to face, but I had heard him and the other angels talking in my head. I already knew what I had to do.


	13. I Walk the Line

I sighed and walked slowly down the street kicking trash out of my way. I had left my brothers a note saying not to look for me, that I would come back sometime, but that I had some stuff to take care of first.

Cass had told me I had to leave for a bit. So I had. He hadn't told me why exactly so I wasn't exactly sure why I'd done it. But I trusted Cass. I trusted him with my life, so I trusted his orders. Even if they were a bit strange. Cass had said a whole lot to me about "purifying my soul" and "going to the desert to prepare myself" and a lot of things like that.

But I had begged for a week after the Gates of Hell incident. He'd granted it to me and I left the night after we'd cleared out the Seven Deadly Sins.

I hummed "Paradise City" to myself as I walked, wondering what my brothers were doing right now. I'd gotten rid of the GPS in my phone and I'd stolen a car from a grocery store parking lot three blocks away from the hotel after blacking out the video camera. I had then made my way to Atlanta like Cass had said.

I felt someone bump into my shoulder. I turned to apologize and stopped dead in my tracks. The boy I had run into mumbled an apology and then turned to leave again. I stared. He couldn't have been more than twenty. His eyes were dark, but soft, like melted chocolate. He was muscular, but not overly built. His skin was tan and his clothes dark to match his long hair.

I paused for a moment and I almost went after him, when I stopped myself. I was on a case. Well, sort of. I didn't have time to be running after boys. No matter how handsome.

I went along until I heard the screaming. My eyes widened and I turned toward the sound. My feet started moving on their own and I found myself down an alleyway.

A young woman was pressed against the wall staring wide-eyed at the man in front of her. It only took me a moment to realize why. The man had his mouth gaping and needle-like teeth were pointed at the woman.

I rushed forward pulling my silver knife from its' sheath at my side. But then I heard something growling. I glanced up in time to see a dark figure leap down from the top of the chain link fence at the end of the alley. I froze for a second as the figure pounced on the vampire, its' mouth wide and its' canines sharp and long.

While the werewolf was ripping the vamps' head off, I made my way toward the girl and I grabbed her, pulling her away.

She immediately took off, sobbing. I didn't have time to worry about her calling the police though. The werewolf was done with its' snack and my pistol was somewhere at the bottom of my duffel along with my other weapons besides my knife which went everywhere with me.

I brandished it out in front of me and shifted into a fighting stance. The creature stared for a moment, its' face covered in vamp blood and his canines still showing. The boy stepped out of the shadows and my eyes widened. It was the boy from earlier that had bumped into me.

I gripped my knife tighter waiting for the attack but it never came. The boy stepped closer and his teeth disappeared back into his head. He held out his hands in a placating gesture.

"We can talk with knifes and teeth or we can talk like two normal hunters. I won't hurt you." He added.

I didn't lower my knife. "You're the one with blood on your hands. How do I know I can trust you?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "You don't. But I haven't tried to kill you. And you haven't killed me. So why not hear me out?"

I narrowed my eyes. " words?"

The boy wiped the blood from his mouth with the corner of his shirt and smirked. "Name's Dylan. Dylan Marion. What's yours?"

"MacK." I answered in a steely tone.

Dylan nodded. "You're one of the Winchester's, huh?"

I stared. "How do you know that?"

Dylan shrugged. "I read Monster Weekly."

I glared at him. "You ready to die now or what?"

The boy grinned again. "Actually I was hoping you'd choose to hear me out. See, I used to be a hunter. Like you. Then," He gestured to himself. "this happened."

"You're still a monster." I said, but I lowered my knife little more.

Dylan chuckled. "Yeah. So I've been told." Hurt flashed in his eyes. "Just hear me out."

I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. "Fine. You have five minutes."

"Six months ago my dad and I were working a case in San Francisco. A rogue werewolf. I was the bait and my dad was supposed to come up behind the werewolf and kill him. But the werewolf saw him. He killed him and changed me. He tried to get me to join him and I agreed. I later found out he was a second generation to an alpha. That night while he slept though I put a bullet through his heart.I eat animal hearts, not human. I'm a hunter, just like you. I use my condition to my advantages."

I scoffed but not so unkindly. "'Condition'."

Dylan shrugged. "It's nicer than saying I'm a friggin' werewolf." He paused. "Look I know you don't trust me, but my dad always said not to hunt alone. So…partners?" He held out his hand.

I watched him warily."Fine." I took his hand. "But the first time you go rogue. I will kill you."

Dylan held up his hands defensively. "Fine.

"You got somewhere you're staying?" I asked.

Dylan shrugged. An old warehouse a few miles from ?"

I shook my head. "Just rolled into town."

Dylan nodded. "Then you can stay at my place." He gave me a crooked grin. "Hope your parents don't mind."

Dylan lifted the rusted garage door with a loud screech. I looked around but no one was nearby anyways. He led me inside and closed the door back. He flipped a switch on the wall to and the dank dusty warehouse was filled with a harsh light. A sleeping bag and a few blankets were piled in one corner next to a duffel and a stack of newspapers. "Running water, hot meals, feather mattresses, and five star service." Dylan pointed to the corner with the sleeping bag. "Put your stuff over there, and go ahead and get a few hours of rest. I'll go get you something to eat."

"As long as it's not a puppy dog's heart, I'll eat it." I said cynically.

Dylan gave me another one of his famous crooked grins. "Don't worry. I only get those on Thursdays."

I rolled my eyes. I was still wary of the guy, but he was alright for now. And he was right. I didn't need to hunt on my own. And I was going to keep hunting until Cass told me that he needed me to do "God's work".

I waited until Dylan had left before doing a quick sweep of the place. Mostly it was empty. A few weapons and his duffel were the only things I could really find. I stood in the middle of the room and looked around me. The only thing I hadn't searched was his jacket which he'd left hanging on a nail. I shrugged. Couldn't hurt, and the guy was clean so far.

I dug through the left pocket not finding anything. Then I tried the right. A piece of paper brushed my hand. I fished it out.

It was a folded picture, worn and creased. I read the names off the back in the thick script.

**Doug, Dana, Erin, and Dylan Marion.**

I unfolded the picture to find four smiling faces staring up at me. A handsome man with dark hair stood in front of a Christmas tree his arm wrapped around a woman with silky brown hair, and wearing a red dress. With his free arm he held a young boy, probably two or three who was hiding half his face against the man's shirt and smiling sleepily. A girl about six or seven, the spitting image of the woman, stood in front of them. Her two front teeth were missing and a stain that looked suspiciously like hot chocolate bloomed on her shirt.

I smiled to myself. I hadn't asked Dylan about his mom. I would have to when he came back.

"They're dead. If that's what you're wondering."

I whipped around, the picture still in my grasp. "I…" I trailed off.

Dylan shrugged and sat the bag of food down on top of the metal work table. "It's alright. I'm not mad. If some random werewolf guy comes up to you on the street and invites you over for a play date you don't expect them to trust you right away." I stared. Dylan made his way over to me and took the picture gently from my hands. He stared at it for a moment before slipping it back into his jacket pocket.

"What happened?" I asked finally.

Dylan looked down for a moment then back up at me. "Demon." He said simply. "Three years after that picture was taken."

I didn't say anything else. Hunters didn't usually offer condolences for dead loved ones. We all usually got our start in similar ways.

"So what grub did you get me?" I asked after a moment, deciding to change the subject.

Dylan turned and blinked his eyes. "Well, hope you like cheeseburgers or else you're out of luck 'cause that's all the joints around here sell." He said, his usual humor returning.

I grinned. "Perfect."

* * *

_**A/N: OK, I know some of this sounds a bit strange, but I consider Cass to be a "pure" soul to start with therefore it makes sense that he would want his vessel to more or less be pure, since, yes, unlike our favorite Winchester's, Kenzie's a virgin.**_


	14. Oh, What a Nite

A/N: This didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to, but I thought "what the heck?"

"Was there anything strange about the body? Like, was it missing a heart, for instance?" I asked the coroner.

He gave me a funny look. "Well, if we're talking strange then yes. It was bled dry."

He pulled out the tray and uncovered the body. I stared. The body was shrunken and emaciated. "And this is the third one this week, correct?"

The coroner nodded and sighed. "Yep."

"And all three cases the victim was under the age of three, correct?"

"Yes."

I 'hmmm'd. "Yes, well, if you get another one like it, call me."

"I will do so, Agent Seger."

A week had passed since I'd started working with Dylan and surprisingly we'd managed to find a job in town which made it easier than risking the threat of using aliases that my brothers might recognize.

I missed them, but to tell the truth, I kind of liked this. It was nice to be out of their overprotective shadows for once.

"So all three have been sucked dry?" Dylan asked me over the phone as I unlocked the stolen car's door.

"Yep. Sounds like a vamp, but they don't usually go for kids. They like the big meat."

"True. So what then? A chupacabra with a taste for human blood?"

I backed out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "Not sure, it's doubtful. They stay down south. Last one I heard about went only as far north as Louisiana."

"Yeah. I'll be at the library. See what I can dig up on it."

"K. I'll meet you there."

Three hours of research had turned up nothing. "Hey, was there any puncture wounds on the body?" Dylan asked.

I shrugged. "Coroner wouldn't let me touch it. Something about the parents weren't allowing the police to 'dig around inside their children'."

Dylan scoffed. "Well, looks like we've got a job tonight."

I nodded in agreement just as my phone went off. My "Shoot to Thrill" ringtone blasting full volume and echoing around the room. I jumped and every person in the library turned to glare at me. The librarian narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry." I said meekly, declining the call and turning off my volume.

Dylan covered his mouth with his hand to hide the fact that he was laughing at my red face. When his stifled laughter died down he said, "I can't believe, that you, the nerdiest of all nerds forgot to turn your volume off."

I glared and resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. For about three seconds. He shook his head and grinned crookedly.

Not for the first time since meeting Dylan was I glad I had.

I held the flashlight low and looked around us, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. So far all I'd seen were three cats and about a dozen birds.

"Got it." Dylan said, prying up the glass with the tips of his fingers.

We both quietly slipped inside the boiler room and I carefully closed the window back. We slipped up the stairs and down the halls until we came to the door of the morgue. I picked the lock this time while Dylan played lookout.

Once inside I pulled out one of the three occupied drawers and pulled the sheet down.

"That's just sick." Dylan said. I agreed.

I looked over the head and neck checking for puncture wounds. I ran my hand along the back of the neck but I didn't find anything. "There's nothing here."

"Nothing at all?"

I shook my head and looked back down at the body. Something stood out from the golden colored hair on the boy's head. I picked it up. It was a strand of thick black hair. "Or maybe this is something."

I wiped a hand down my face and over my tired eyes. I sighed. "I got absolutely nothing."

Dylan sighed. "Me neither." He slammed the computer mouse down on the table. The librarian gave us a hard look. "But I did find out about a woman dying in childbirth about a week before the killings started. Could have a connection."

I nodded. "Vengeful spirit maybe? Her and her child dies then she takes revenge on any happy family she can find."

"Or," Dylan stared at the computer where he'd been typing away as I spoke. "It could be a Langsuir."

"A what?" I scooted over to him.

"I searched black hair and sucking infants blood and this is what I found." He gestured to the computer screen where there was a picture of a woman with long black hair, claws, and a bloody hole in the side of her neck.

"Really? What exactly is it?"

"Uh, says here that in Malaysia when a woman and her baby died in childbirth she sometimes became a Langsuir if she wasn't buried properly. Looks kinda like a vamp."

"How do you kill it?"

Dylan hummed in the back of his throat as he scrolled through the website. "Nothing here about killing them. But you can tame them by shoving their hair into their feeding hole."

"How long does it last?"

"Thirty to fifty years."

"That's not long enough. We need something that could kill her."

"But it could buy us some time for now."

I pursed my lips. "Fine. I think I know where the thing might be holing up. We'll check out the place tonight." I grabbed the map of the area I'd filled with x's and connected them. "Here." I said, pointing to the spot. "All the killings were within a five mile radius of this forest."

"Great, so we get to trek through a fifty mile wide forest in the middle of night."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not fifty miles wide, it's a national park and it's only ten miles wide."

Dylan sighed. "Great."

"So you're sure that silver will work?"

"Yep." I answered loading my pistol. "People used to bury them with silver needles to prevent them from becoming Langsuirs so it should work to slow her down."

"Let's hope."

We slammed the doors shut on the truck and hid our guns until we got deeper into the woods.

"How do we know she's not on a hunt?" Dylan whispered.

"Because all the other hunts were on even days. It's the seventeenth. She won't hunt tonight."

"Hope you're right." Dylan whispered for the billionth time tonight. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.

A rustling noise came from our left. Then an owl hooted up ahead. "I read something about Langsuirs becoming owls at night." I said quietly. "Let's split up. You take the left, I'll go on ahead."

"Alright."

I walked as quietly as I could, stepping over sticks, and pushing aside low branches. A twig snapped behind me and I turned. Another movement stirred beside me and I jumped around only to startle a few birds from their hiding places in the bushes.

I let out a breath of annoyance and relief. Then, suddenly a scream filled the air.

My eyes widened. "Dylan!" I cried.

I hiked back through the woods following the direction that the solitary scream had come from.

I didn't risk calling his name again in case the creature was nearby. All of a sudden I heard three gunshots pierce the still air. I stopped to listen where they came from and then continued my path.

I heard someone grunt and then another scream, higher in pitch, like a banshee.

"Dylan?" I called quietly. Something was moving to my right and I turned, gun raised, finger poised on the trigger to shoot.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dylan stepped out of the brush, hands raised in surrender. He was covered from head to toe in mud, leaves, and twigs. A long nasty cut ran down his chest and blood was soaking his torn shirt. "Don't shoot. I mean, I know I look pretty bad, but nothing like that thing." He grinned.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Gosh, you're such an idiot. What happened? Are you alright?"

"Well, you were right. Silver slows them down. And look what happened when I stuffed her hair into her feeding hole." He dragged a body out from behind a tree. It was a woman with long dark hair and a beautiful face if you didn't pay attention to the mud covering it. "No teeth, no talons. They just disappeared."

"Nice. Let's get her out of here."

We ended up taking the woman to a hospital three towns over, hoping that no one would recognize her under a false identity.

And fortunately for us the woman woke up with no memory of her previous life. I felt a little sad for her, but at least this way she could start anew. She wouldn't have to deal with the past sadness of her life.

Now it was time to find a new job.

"I can't believe this!" I cried running into our warehouse.

Dylan looked up, startled. He put down the magazine he was reading. "What is it?"

I slapped the newspaper down in front of him on the small battered worktable. "There's been another killing."

"What?" He exclaimed.

"Another infant, sucked dry. Last night."

Dylan stared at the newspaper before picking up. He looked up at me. "Guess the whole hair thing didn't work."

"Figure that all out by yourself, did ya, Sherlock?" I asked. I picked up my gun from the table and checked to be sure it was loaded. "Lucky for you I already found out how to kill the thing. You got to tame her, and then shoot her with a silver bullet."

"Tame her first? So she'll be human when we kill her?"

I looked at him. "She's not human." I stated. "She's a monster."

"So am I."

I blinked at him. "Dylan, you've killed monsters before. This isn't any different. Now let's go. We gotta check out her old hiding spot."

"I've been doing some thinking." Dylan began quietly as though he hadn't even heard me at all. "Maybe I shouldn't be alive. I'm a potential threat. Maybe I should be dead, too."

I stared at him. "What are you talking about? You're not a threat. You're a hunter. And you've got yourself under control."

Dylan shook his head and stood up. "I haven't always. I've killed people you know. I haven't always been good."

"You've changed." I stated firmly. "You haven't killed any_one_ in months."

"But you don't know what it's like never knowing when there might be something, someday, just one thing, that will push you over the edge."

I stared at him for a long moment before taking his arm in a firm grip. "Listen to me." I said slowly. "If you so much as _think_ about putting a bullet through your brain, or getting yourself killed, then so help me I will kick your ass up one side of the country and down the other. Got it?"

Dylan stared down at me, shocked. Here I was, a twenty year old female hunter threatening him.

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Finally he narrowed his eyes and the ghost of a smirk whispered over his lips. "Yes, ma'am."

I let go of his arm. "Now let's go."

The Langsuir had taken up at its old hiding spot so it wasn't too hard to find. Dylan got a hold of the creature and tamed it while I waited for it to transform so I could shoot her. When I saw the poor woman lying there I held a moment of doubt, but I didn't allow myself more than that before I pulled the trigger.

Being a hunter was hard. It always had been. Especially at moments like this.

"Start digging and I'll go get the kerosene and salt." I ordered, allowing myself one last glance at the body before turning.

Dylan smirked. "I like it when you get bossy."

I rolled my eyes and started back through the woods when suddenly I felt a hand on my arm. I turned. "Yeah?"

I felt lips on mine. I stood stockstill for about three seconds before I kissed back. I deepened our kiss and I felt him run a hand through my hair. The other hand cupped the back of my neck. For a werewolf he had soft lips and he kissed gently.

Finally we came up for air. "Is this the point where you give that cheesy line 'I've been wanting to do that since we met'?" I asked, breathlessly.

Dylan laughed and then kissed me again. This time I kissed back completely.

I stared at the names in my contacts and the dozens of missed calls.

My finger hovered over the call back button beside Dean's name. It had only been a month, and I'd gone without seeing Sam for almost four years. But they were the only family I had, unless you counted Bobby.

The screechy garage door opened and I looked up in time to see Dylan enter and toss me combination supper and breakfast. I smiled slightly in thanks.

"What's wrong?" He asked sitting beside me on the sleeping bag.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Just checking my voicemails.

Dylan scoffed and opened the cups of coffee he held. "Sure you were." He pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and poured a gracious amount into each cup. He handed one to me. He made a mock toasting motion. "To the great life as a hunter."

It was my turn to scoff at that, but it was halfhearted. I sipped my coffee, and then smiled. To tell the truth, my life wasn't so bad.


	15. Earth Angel

The past couple of months have been the best of my life. Dylan and I hunted every creepy thing in Georgia, avoiding hunters and cops alike. We always ended up back at our same warehouse. Our home base.

Dylan didn't have any thirsts for human blood, thank God, and all was well.

We'd just finished up a case with a vengeful spirit and we were making our way back down an alleyway, heading towards our warehouse.

"You got any leads for another case?" I asked.

Dylan gave me a funny look. "Did you and your brothers never take breaks between cases? Come on, Kenz. Lighten up. Let's take a leave of absence."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, we did. But what would we do? Hunts just seem to follow us everywhere we go."

Dylan shrugged. "Maybe, less ganking, more of this," He shoved me up against the wall of the alley and pressed his lips to mine. I didn't resist and instead helped to deepen the kiss.

"What are you doing?"

I whirled around with the look of a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Cass." I said feeling a blush flush my cheeks.

Dylan growled and I could practically feel his hackles rising, preparing to attack. I placed a hand on his chest and he looked at me, incredulous.

"The angel's off limits, Dylan." I said. I had explained my whole situation to Dylan a few months back. He was surprised at first but he took it well.

Both Dylan and Cass regarded each other coldly for a moment. Finally I sighed and rolled my eyes. "What do want, Cass?"

Castiel turned to me and gave me a hard look. "I need to speak with you." He turned to Dylan adding, "Privately."

Dylan's nose wrinkled slightly. "Fine." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading back down the alley.

Once he was out of sight I turned to glare at Cass. "What the hell, Cass? Where do you get off just butting into my private life, huh?"

Cass gave me another hard look. "You don't have time for lustful things.

I gaped at him. Proudly not cussing him out I said, "Look Cass, stay out of my private life alright? Now what are you here for?"

"It's time."

"Time for what?" I asked, but I was cut off when a bright light filled the alleyway. Whispers of Enochian filled my ears. I hadn't heard them in months. A heady sensation fell over me. A peaceful sensation. And I blacked out.

I gasped as my eyes opened and blinked up at the blazing blue sky. I felt the stiff, dry grass beneath my hands. I sat up and looked around.

I was in an abandoned field. An old barn leaned precariously a short distance off.

I stood up and brushed the grass and dirt off my clothes, then looked around to see if anybody was near. No one was.

A cold wind brushed over my body and I realized how ill-suited my thin jeans and tank top were, and I wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm. I shivered as I made my way over to the barn and opened the wooden doors, gaining a few splinters in the process.

"Hello." I called out, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat but didn't call out again. I didn't expect anyone to answer.

I looked up at the sky again and realized that clouds were fast moving in from the north. It looked like snow clouds, but that was impossible. It was August when I passed out, so how—?

Suddenly all the memories came rushing back to me and I leaned up against the side of the barn.

Castiel. Where was he? My last memory was of him basically internally raping me.

"Damn you, Cass." I muttered as I shoved myself off of the wall. I was freezing. "The least you could have done was zap me back to my brothers."

I looked out at the fast approaching snow clouds. Suddenly a flash of movement from the woods caught my eye.

I looked around myself searching for anything that might help me defend off an attacker. An iron poker was propped against the wall behind the door and I quietly picked it up.

I raised it up and waited for my attacker to appear. I heard a snarl and I pressed my back against the wall of the building, trying to slow my breathing which was giving off little white puffs in the freezing air.

Suddenly I heard the rough breathing right around the corner of the building. I swallowed hard and rushed at my attacker, managing to knock them in the head before I even got a good look.

The creature stumbled back. I caught the flash of fangs and talons. _Werewolf_, I thought. I remembered I had stashed my silver knife in my combat boot. If only I had time to get to it. For now, though, I settled for merely charging at the thing again.

This time I found myself knocked to ground, hard. All the breath went out of me as my back slammed into the frozen earth. But I didn't stop. The poker had been knocked from my hand in the fall, but I still fought with all I had. I kneed his shin causing him to yowl in pain like a wounded dog. While he was momentarily distracted, I shoved him off of me and jerked my knife from my boot. I pinned him down and pressed it to his neck watching as a blister formed where the silver blade met skin, and he hissed in pain.

I raised my blade to deal a death blow when suddenly, his face changed. "Kenzie! Kenzie! It's me! It's me!" He pleaded.

His voice. It was familiar. And his face. It all came rushing back to me in an instant. I lowered my knife. "D-Dylan?"

Dylan sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

I stared at him and then threw my arms around his neck. "Thank God." I whispered.

I pulled back and stared at Dylan's face again. I brushed some freshly fallen snow out of his hair, just to reassure myself he was real.

"What are you doing here?" Dylan asked me as we stood up.

I shrugged. "Not the slightest idea." Then I shivered as the heat from the rush of the fight wore off.

"Oh, um, here," Dylan slipped out of his heavy leather jacket and placed it over my shoulders.

I smiled in thanks. "What, no testing me for demons?" I asked teasingly.

Dylan smirked. "You're right. How could I have let my guard down?" His hand hardly seemed to move as he grabbed my arm. He snatched the silver knife out of my other hand and sliced it along my forearm. "Good, but I'm guessing silver doesn't tell whether you're possessed by an angel or not, huh?"

I shrugged and wrapped the handkerchief he handed me around my arm. "Never really got the chance to try." Then I cursed.

"What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. It's just I'm gonna kill that SOB angel when next I see him. He thinks he can just hitch a ride whenever he wants. He's just so…" I trailed off and let out a frustrated growl. Then again, I had agreed to let Cass ride around in my body. I was reconsidering that deal.

Dylan glanced around. Something finally hit me and I asked, "Wait, where are we? Last I saw you we were in Atlanta."

"South Dakota."

"South Dakota." I echoed. "What are you doing here?"

Dylan gave me a sideways glance. He seemed older than last I saw him, but it hadn't been _that_ long surely. "Caught word of a rugaroo running loose in these woods."

"What happened to the warehouse?"

Dylan glanced off. "Come on. Let's get you to in my car, and get you warmed up. Then we'll swap stories."

He led me back through the woods until we came upon an old beat up pick up. I opened the passenger door, swiped the old trash and bullets onto the floor, and climbed in. Dylan immediately turned the heat up full blast and I settled into the worn seats.

"I don't guess you happened to keep my jacket did you?" I asked.

Dylan gave me a sort of sheepish grin completely uncharacteristic of him. The Dylan I knew had always been so cocky. He wasn't the same man. I wondered what had happened that would have caused him to change so much.

"Actually," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Your duffel's in the toolbox in the truck bed."

I stared at him. "You kept my duffel in your truck." I gave a scoffing laugh. "That's only borderline creepy."

Dylan glared, but the flush creeping up his neck made me laugh out loud. He looked like a blushing three year old. "Shut up." He mumbled. But I caught the slight sheepish grin as he glanced down.

Five minutes later I was happily wearing a long sleeved shirt and my leather jacket. I brushed my hair out and pulled it back. Then I splashed a little bit of holy water on my face to get off the dirt.

Feeling refreshed Dylan began driving back down the rough dirt path he'd obviously come. When we were safely back on the road I said, "Alright, now you owe me an explanation in full."

Dylan glanced at me. I looked back at him until finally he sighed. "Alright, fine. You win." He paused. Then, "I was planning on staying at the warehouse. I mean, if you trusted that angel dude I thought maybe I should too. You talked like the work he was going to have you do wouldn't take long and I figured you would be back soon. But after a month when you still didn't come back, I got worried. I tried searching for you but of course I didn't find anything. Then this hunter bozo must've picked up my scent and—"

"Wait, what do you mean picked up your scent? How?" I interrupted.

Dylan stared ahead, silent.

"Dylan. Dylan Marion, tell me what you did." When he didn't answer I said, "You didn't." He still didn't answer me, but I saw him swallow. "You did." I whispered.

"It's not what you think—"

"Then what is it?" I asked, my voice rising to hysterical.

Dylan sighed. "Look, I was a…a mess, after you left. I went mad trying to find you. I had to know that you were alright. But, I was out of control. I couldn't control my rages, especially on the full moon."

"Oh God." I breathed.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? But you were gone, and I couldn't control myself. You," He paused and then continued quietly, "You're what kept me from doing things like this, Kenzie"

I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Dylan, look, I'm sorry I wasn't there, alright? But you knew that eventually I would have to leave. You knew."

"But I didn't know it would be for that long."

"I didn't know either. And I'm sorry. That's still not an excuse to suddenly wolf out." After a moment I added, "How many?"

Dylan glanced down then back at the road. "Six."

"Oh, Dylan."

"I know, I know. I said I'm sorry. I know that can't make up for the people I killed. I know that. But I really am sorry, Kenzie."

I took a shuddery breath. "I know," I said quietly. "The Dylan I knew wouldn't do something like this. It's alright. We'll figure something out. I'm not gonna let any hunters get to you, okay?"

"What about your brothers? What happened to going back to them after all this was over?"

I deadpanned. My brothers. My cherished Dean and Sammy. I hadn't seen them in months. I hadn't spoken to them in months. They probably thought I was dead. And there was no way in hell I was going to be able to bring a werewolf back and expect them to just be ok with this.

"We'll figure something out. Let's stop at a family friend's house and I'll call them. Get them to meet me."

"They'll be pissed. Not only over you leaving, but when they find out about me…" He scoffed. "Well, I'm a dead man. Werewolf, whatever." The tiniest bit of humor had crept back onto his voice reminding me of the Dylan I had met on the street that day so long ago after he had ripped a vamp's throat out.

"We'll figure it out." I said, though I wasn't convincing myself. Sam would try to reason with me about it. But Dean? Dean would shoot him and then yell at me for an hour about how stupid I had been.

I winced just thinking about how this meeting was going to go.

It was a few hours later that we rolled into Bobby's junk yard. When Dylan stopped the car I simply stared for a moment at the familiar house. Finally I took a deep breath and got out.

Bobby wasn't in his garage, but his truck was parked in front which meant he was home. Dylan followed me as I jogged up to the front porch and knocked on his door. It was several seconds later when it was finally opened.

I smiled at Bobby who stared at me for several seconds before finally speaking. "Where in the hell have you been, girl?"

I winced. "Hunting." I answered somewhat truthfully.

Bobby just stared at me. "Your brothers are worried _sick_ about you. They think you're probably dead."

I fought off another wince. "Yeah, um, well…"

"And who the hell's that?" Bobby demanded, looking over my shoulder at a clearly terrified Dylan.

"Um, Bobby this is Dylan Marion. A hunter. Dylan, this is Bobby Singer. Also a hunter. Currently more of a retired hunter. Works the phones, looks up lore."

"Retired my ass." I heard Bobby mutter under his breath. Then he let out a long breath. "Well, you two might as well come in. This could take some time, I'm guessin'."

Bobby stepped back from the door to let us in. He stopped Dylan though, grabbing his shoulder. "And son, don't touch anything."

Dylan swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

I took a deep breath, taking in the smell of old books and cheap whiskey. A thousand memories assaulted me. Sometimes I wondered if I thought of Bobby as a better dad than my dad. I sure felt like I spent more time growing up with Bobby than Dad.

Then I'd feel guilty for thinking it.

"I'll go fix some coffee." Bobby called as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Hey, Bobby, I need to borrow a phone. My cell phone got lost."

"Third one from the left." He called back to me.

I picked up the phone and slowly dialed the number that I had permanently burned into my memory. The number was disconnected.

I dialed Sam's number this time with the same results. "Damn it." I muttered.

"They change numbers?" Dylan asked.

I nodded and sighed. "Hey, Bobby, did Sam and Dean get new cell numbers?"

Bobby shrugged as he handed me the coffee cup. I took a sip, Bobby watched me carefully and I realized he must've made the coffee with holy water. I nearly smiled. Good ol' Bobby. Couldn't trust anybody to save his life.

Dylan took his and immediately steam rose up from his fingertips. He gasped and dropped what I thought was a tin cup, but it must've been coated in silver. Hot coffee splashed over our feet. Bobby drew his gun and pointed it at Dylan who was cradling his burnt fingers.

"Bobby, it's not what you think." I sat my cup hurriedly down on the table.

"The hell it isn't. What are you boy?"

"Bobby," I stepped in front of Dylan and held my hands up. "Look, he's good, alright? He's not going to hurt me."

"MacK, when has a monster ever turned out good?"

"But he is, Bobby." I protested. "Please Bobby, he's my friend," I pleaded. "Just give him a chance."

Bobby lowered his gun slowly, a distrustful look still on his face.

"Well, what is he?" He asked. "If he's going to stay here I want to know how to kill him."

"He's a werewolf." I said releasing a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Bobby grunted. He glared at Dylan. "But if he shows one sign of betraying us; I'll shoot you so fast you won't know what hit ya." The last part was directed at a wide-eyed Dylan.

Dylan nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I'm watchin' you, boy." He held Dylan's gaze with his own for moment, letting the threat sink in before turning to me. "Alright, now let's call those idjit brothers of yours."

"Yeah, did they change numbers?" I asked again.

"Yeah, last hunt they ran into a bit of trouble."

"What kind?"

"Something about Gordon's a vampire."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? They gank him?"

"Yep."

"Good. I've wanted him dead since that time he kidnapped me and Dean just to kill Sam."

"Tell me about it. Here," Bobby handed me the phone where he'd already dialed the number. "Call 'em."

I slowly took the phone from him and stared at the numbers for a moment before clicking the call button. It rang three times before I heard Dean's voice on the other side.

"Hey, Bobby, what ya got?"

I swallowed. "Dean."

"MacKenzie!"

I flinched at the use of my fully name. "Yeah. Yeah, Dean. It's me."

There was a pause on the other end. Then, "Where the hell have you been? We looked everywhere for you. What happened?"

"Look, Dean. It's a long story."

"We'll be there tonight and I expect the full story."

"Yes, sir."

This time I could practically feel Dean flinch. He must've realized how he was starting to sound like Dad because his tone softened. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Dean sighed. "I still expect a good explanation for worrying me, Sam, and Bobby sick, Kenzie."

"Yes, sir. Talk to you later then." I hung up.

"That didn't sound like it went too well." Dylan commented.

"Better than I thought." I replied truthfully.

Dylan opened his mouth and then turned to me, a puzzled expression on his face. "Why did that guy want to kill your brother?"

I shrugged. "Oh, nothing much. He just thought my brother was the antichrist."

Dylan opened his mouth to ask more but I cut him off before I had to launch into an entire history of my past. "Hey, Bobby, it alright if I get cleaned up?"

Bobby waved his hand as he made his way back to his desk still clutching the gun.

Dylan gave me a panicked look. "You're going to leave me alone with him?" He hissed under his breath.

I rolled my eyes, though on the inside I was a little worried myself. "Don't worry. Bobby usually keeps his word, and as long as you're a good boy I think you'll be fine."

"And if he doesn't keep his word?"

"Then, I don't know, scream."

"And you'll come running?"

I huffed. "Sure."

"Will you grab a towel first or—"

"You perv!" I said punching his shoulder and watching him grin. I rolled my eyes pretending to be exasperated. "Just stay put and be good."

"Always." His grin widened.


End file.
